Life is back to normal. A mad hodge podge of deadlines, appointments, obligations with a large handful of worry underlying the whole daily experience. The economy is in a tail spin, two young adults still living at home and tentatively eyeing the future, the promise of retirement looking more and more tenuous, our 80 something mums still managing on their own but more frequently showing signs of advancing age and yes, our own bodies daily reminding us of our own mortality. Those are the daily underpinnings of our consciousness and Iwould bet our subconscious selves. But, looking out the window at the slowly unfurling maple tree buds and the optimistically greening lilac bushes, I am strangely optimistic myself. What else is there to feel? This tight rope of life we daily venture on to could conceivably snap at any moment. But then the course of action would be clear, pick our selves up, shake of the dust, realign to a new reality and continue on. Until then looking forward with a sense of hope is the only course of action. A handful of umbrellas for balance always comes in handy with a reckless stint of excitement thrown in here or there to break up the monotony. We soldier on constantly grateful for what we have and constantly conscious of how much worse it could be. Spring is here outside our doors and in our hearts.