It is nearly 70 degrees in Minnesota today; the wind is gusting and the sun is shining. The earth is still damp and cold on my bare feet, and the grass still a dull dusty brown....but there is the unmistakable smell of spring in the air.
Here in the Midwest, we are accustomed to a springtime marked by starts and stops, fast melts followed by driving blizzards, temperatures shifting 20 degrees or more in a single day. I often say that spring doesn't actually start till late May here, partly to brace myself for the wait, and partly because it's true--there has been more than one year when the snow has not fully melted till a few days before June.
You hear a lot about winter in this part of the country--the brutality of it, the endlessness, the danger. Everything feels more difficult--driving, dressing, even getting the mail. But the first day that hints at spring is like a Mind Wipe--suddenly we all forget how difficult and long winter was, and we fall in love with the change of season. Part of the magic of spring is the slow unfolding--skate rinks deepening in color, surfaces dull and stippled with tiny holes in the ice; puddles forming at the end of driveways; faded tennis balls emerging from the snow in the back yard; mud patches spreading across walking trails. Plants unfurl from their crouch amid last year's leaves and become tall, fresh, green, arrivals of leaves and stems. All of us--the plants, the earth, the people--seem to be stretching, stretching towards the sun.
So it is, too, that the process of finding and articulating a new vision for an organization feels like stretching towards a sometimes elusive source of light. The old adage about the journey being the destination is true. When we are trying to do things differently--include more people, invite more input, embrace more participation--the process is also the outcome. Particularly in thinking about equity, the act of creating a new group of people to think and decide together is also, in real time, the practice of equity. There are starts and stops, unexpectedly deep puddles and occasionally some mud. We often think we're done before we are, and we have to stay present to observe the tiny but beautiful changes happening around us. I feel so lucky to be part of the process with many of you. After such a draining and difficult year, wherever you are in the world, I hope you are able to stretch, stretch, stretch towards a warm spring sun.