Happy April, Beautiful Ones,
I’ve been out walking most afternoons in this early New England springtime.
On every hillside or hedgerow, leaf litter covers the ground. A few beeches still cling to their almost-transparent curled leaves but the landscape remains a backdrop of skeletal trunks and branches.
The calendar says Spring but most of life around me appears still dormant. Waiting.
You might ask: What’s been dormant in me, waiting?
Western religious traditions reflect this early Spring dichotomy – the old giving way to the new. People pack up for a Promised Land. What was dead opens to the irresistible mystery of an empty tomb.
Whether we observe the traditions of our ancestors or not, they live within us. Just as the natural world impacts us far more than we notice. No matter how dormant life feels, we cannot hold back what wants to live.
If you’ve stopped long enough to tune in, you might actually be feeling the shift that’s starting to happen.
But we are a culture of doers. We don’t stop. We worship busyness, forward movement. We hate to wait. With ever more tantalizing ways to distract ourselves, we resist stillness in favor of something, anything that feels like we’re busy and productive. Or is it just me?
If you haven’t already, take a moment this weekend to get outside, feel the changes coming, and feel into yourself.
Our traditions observe emerging new life in story and metaphor. Nature insists upon it. Those green tips of sprouting daffodil bulbs in my garden will not be denied, even by this week’s flurry of late Spring snow.
Our deeper shifts don’t happen in a vacuum. I believe they are ushered along by innumerable forces aligned for our growth, if we allow it.
Let your connection with Nature be an organic guide. Give yourself the gift of a quiet walk with yourself. Perhaps contemplate what’s done, and what wants to be born anew in you. Ask and then listen for the guidance that is most surely there. Then let’s celebrate what’s longing to come alive in you.
Happy Spring, Dear Ones.
With so much love,