Seasonal Affective Dusorder can make the Happy Holidays blue. The winter doldrums are real and can weigh heavy on emotions. After a seemingly endless winter, it’s finally spring. The sun is out, the air is fresh and it’s time to let the skies be blue so we can bask in the sun.

We often get told that dreams do come true and nothing is out of reach. However, everyone has their limits. How impossible does the dream we believe in have to be before it makes us believe that maybe we don't deserve it? Is it better to know your limits and push within reason or to shoot for the stars without a rocket? 

It's that time of year when Easter Bunnies give way to dust bunnies and we clear the cobwebs to start fresh in Spring. Whether it's deep cleaning your house or sorting through emotional baggage. Sometimes we need that discard pile, even if it's painful. Letting go of what no longer serves us is good for the soul.

Sometimes we jump right into the deep end. Other times, we make the lists and think of contingencies. It is way too easy to drown in the what ifs and infinite possibilities. There are times where we think so hard we can't even move lost in the unfortunate truth of analysis paralysis.

It's that time of year when end of year club banquets, graduation parties, and of course prom cause a mad rush to formal wear hoping for a dress or a bow tie to match a dress. Let's talk about how moments from those dances linger.

We went through passion’s fire. Now, we are chilled to the bone. When love turns cold and kindness turns heartless, that chill ruins deep. Is there ice in your veins, or did you feel the chill in theirs? Tell us all about the cold and heartless.

Turn up the heat in passions’ rising. Bring us from winter to warmth in tactile possibilities. Sensual sensations lead the way as we bring fire to the night.

Floating in an overwhelming sea does it swallow us whole or set us free? For some, water is cleansing. For others, we feel like we're drowning. What ocean do you get lost in?

They say the whole is worth more than the sum of it's parts. But sometimes we are broken into pieces, usable or otherwise. They use our joy ripped out at the roots to patch their own. Gutted like a car for parts, how do we rebuild or is it easier to remain in pieces?

Between spring gardens and seeds of doubt there's a lot of ground to cover. Fed by rain or tears once the seeds are planted, they tend to grow.