Surprised? Yup, me too. My husband mentioned it tonight and I was completely taken aback. Like so many things lately, it snuck up on me.
But back to the topic at hand, suggested by a friend (thanks Caroline): Spring.
According to the dictionary the word can be a verb, noun or adjective. I like the verbs the best, as I suppose any good writer probably should.
The first three meanings listed basically mean jump. Suddenly, quickly and most likely unexpectedly. Rabbits and tigers come to mind.
The fourth and fifth meanings are far more interesting.
4. to come into being, rise, or arise within a short time:
Sort of like The Brass Rag. We sprang into existence a little under a year ago and we haven’t stopped bouncing since. A hiccup or two here and there, but no stops.
5. to come into being by growth, as from a seed or germ, bulb, root, etc.; grow, as plants.
Kind of like my writing career, which (though still comparable to one of those elementary school science projects where you place the bean between a wet paper towel and the wall of a clear plastic cup and watch as it sprouts roots and leaves on its wobbly way to the light and air above the lip) has demonstrated in recent months that it may have the potential to spring, though it has not actually done so yet.
In the last two years I’ve done a lot of new things, some of which it never occurred to me that I would ever do, others that I’ve dreamed of for a very long time: writer’s conferences, writer’s groups, starting a blog, finishing a novel, becoming a grandmother. All of them have moved me closer to the lip of the cup. There are risks of course. Every change, whether great or small, involves a certain estrangement from safety. But I think it’s a little late for hesitation. I think maybe it’s time. I think I would like to spring.
How about you? What does this idea of “springing forward” mean to you?