The Promise

By TAD BARTIMUS

Driving to the post office to mail the mortgage payment, I saw something irregular out of the corner of my eye. In the minute it took me to turn around and park off the road, a calf's head had emerged from its mother: a birth, a new beginning.

Nature, unless we destroy it, pays no attention to us humans. It was the cow's natural cycle to have her offspring at that moment, in that place. I just happened along to witness the miracle.

Soaked with residue from the womb, the calf laid on the moist ground with its eyes closed. A baptismal sprinkling of rain welcomed it. After a few seconds the mother, amazingly strong on her hooves, licked the calf's head, then started working her tongue down its tiny wet body.

The mail would have to wait. I couldn't tear myself away from the spectacle. Standing in the rain, I began thinking about the promise of spring.

The sun's return signals a chance to start again, to get it right this time. Nature's cycles automatically renew, and we humans get our chance to refresh ourselves by adjusting our attitudes.

It's time to put winter's fear and dread away with our down parkas and fleece-lined boots.

The key is to live life, not hide from it. Ignorance was never bliss, only ignorance. Now that we know for sure that terrorism has always been a threat, that our national security is inextricably entwined with the rest of the world, we will adapt accordingly.

It's spring. Get out the rust remover, the paint cans, the weed eater, oil the lawnmower, plant the petunias and stick some tomato plants in a pot on the balcony. We should set for ourselves satisfying, hearty work that yields quick results our senses can savor.

It's also time to treat ourselves, to take a mental health day. So shut off the cell phone, log off the computer, get outdoors and play. Our families not only need us, they enjoy our company. Remember all those promises we made to ourselves about getting our priorities straight after Sept. 11? That awful day was a wakeup call to what's really important in our lives -- children, partners, spouses, siblings, parents, friends - and what's not, which is pretty much everything we do to fill up our exhausting days.

Ask a child how to spend time: "Play baseball. Pet the dog. Go for a walk with my dad. Eat popcorn at the movie. Go swimming. Make sandwiches with my mom. Take a nap. Read books. Watch television. Play soccer in the park. Visit with my friends. Climb a mountain. Go fishing with my grandpa. ..."

So many answers for just one question.

And what about that summer vacation too long deferred? We aren't getting any younger. Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS), coupled with the lingering fears of terrorism, economic aftershocks and the war are very real deterrents to travel, but so was the Cold War, the threat of polio, the oil crisis of 1973. Every generation has its own version of "I can't because ..." If we paid attention to all the "shouldn't" and "couldn't" doomsayers, we'd still be sitting in a circle of Conestoga wagons in the middle of Nebraska.

It's always better to look on the bright side. SARS appears to be contained in Toronto, the United States and Europe. There hasn't been a terrorist attack on American soil in nearly two years. Some economists believe we can spend our way out of the recession, great news for the "shop 'til you drop" fans. In Iraq, major battles are over and some coalition forces are returning home; beyond that, there are no guarantees.

Watching the spring calf struggle upright on wobbly legs and begin nursing for strength just minutes after being born reminds me that we each have the power to lift ourselves out of our winter malaise, out of our negative attitudes, out of our ruts.

It's time for humans to blossom, too, to turn our faces toward the sun. By giving ourselves permission to be happy, we might be. That is spring's eternal promise.

© 2003 The Women Syndicate

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