Personal Growth Planet Blog

The weight of my responsibilities, interests, hopes, dreams, worries, fears and more can really pile up. I tend to feel it in my shoulders, my back, on my head.

Pushing me down. Holding me back from the light, free and joyous life I really want to live.

We all have “to do” lists. We all have places we “have” to be, tasks we “have” to accomplish and roles we “have” to fill.

We all also have a seemingly interminable stream of thoughts that crowd our minds, often filled with worrisome or hopeful projections for the future as well as worrisome and wistful memories of the past.

“Sacrifice” is a heavy-duty concept. It is laden with so many connotations that I even hesitate to highlight it in this way.

It is often associated with the Christian Easter story in which Jesus sacrificed himself for the good of humankind. Over the past several weeks, many people have made sacrifices in the form of giving up something that is dear to them to participate in Lent.

No matter what your religious or spiritual beliefs are, it’s probable that you’ve encountered a sense of sacrifice at some point.

There’s something thrilling about digging into the soil for the first time in the early spring as I introduce new plants into my garden.

I am delighted as I notice buds on trees, bursts of color from daffodils and the emergence and unfolding of fern fronds from the ground.

Spring is one of my favorite seasons because, for me, it holds such promise. From the dreariness and desolation of winter emerges all of this new life. It’s colorful, verdant and nourishing on so many levels.

On a day like today, I am grateful for impermanence.

When I am in a place of grouchiness and am facing such things as an equally grouchy teenager, a large car repair bill, cold temperatures, gray skies and more I am somewhat soothed when I remind myself that this moment in time won’t last forever.

This may not exactly be what the Buddha meant when he taught about impermanence, but I do find some comfort in it, at least temporarily and on the surface.

But, of course, there is a cost to this mind game I tend to play.