While the weather outside still requires mittens and hats and there are still mounds of now-frozen-solid snow to navigate, I can surely feel Spring stirring. In my heart, in my body, in my life. I love that feeling!
Sometimes it feels like a really visceral experience, as though I’m some sort of human plant and I find myself turning towards the sun in an inexplicable magic dance of natural forces. Stretching, reaching upward, turning toward the light after months in the dark underground of dreaming.
And when it happens, this lovely little re-awakening tempting me out of my winter’s hibernation, I feel excited by all the possibilities. Suddenly what I’ve been thinking about feels too small, too inward, too something-I’m-not-quite-sure-what-to-call. It feels like I’ve integrated what I entered into Winter with, and now I’m ready to add more nutrients to my soul’s soil. Fresh new inquires, revisiting old things with fresh eyes and seeing what lights me up now and what is ready to be thanked and gently moved away from.
I had a wonderful experience this weekend, attending a reunion-type of party, gathering with an extraordinary group of women I worked with decades ago. I’ve met individually with many of them over the years, but this is the first big gather-everybody-here kind of affair we’ve done in a long, long time and it was delicious. Basking in the energy of powerful feminist women, celebrating the important work we did, and just loving each other up.
One of the interesting things for me was remembering myself in that past context. And how different I see myself now. Of course, that’s true for everyone I would hope – staying static is not a thing to strive for. But it’s like having a signpost from the past saying this is where you were and see what roads you’ve traveled and where you are now. I’m not sure we get very many of those very clear opportunities to assess our lives in that way – and each time it happens feels like a blessing.
It’s utterly fascinating to me to see how we go through iterations of self, finding ways to express who we really are, and the energies we carry, and the values we’ve chosen as important. Each iteration is like falling more and more and more completely into our true selves – not dancing around the edges, but being inside. And when we fall in completely it’s like the most perfect container that amplifies our shine. Isn’t that a beautiful gift this life gives us? Endless opportunities to refine, to clarify, to express, to be.
I have to say that gathering felt like a perfect launching into the upcoming Spring. A celebration of who I was, of who I am; a re-igniting of powerful energies that needed some stoking; and a compassionate laying to rest of things that are clearly not filled with vital force energy anymore.
I think I’ve been paying more attention of late to the periods of transition, and I really find I like that energy. It’s a blend of the old and the new, the known and the unknown, the moment at the end of the exhale before you take in a new breath. And while there are still two plus weeks before the equinox, it definitely feels like the passage into the next season has opened its doors. I may not be jumping out of my winter hibernation at break neck speed, but I’m definitely stretching and wiggling and slowly popping my eyes open.
It may be a while still, but I’m looking forward to my first sighting of these this year:
I always get excited when I see the first flower stirrings, but I also like this time before anything is spotted where I think about what’s hidden and not yet seen. The magic that is happening out of sight. And how those tender little green shoots pop up exactly when we need it most – when we’ve become so winter weary it’s hard to imagine we can go another day without encouragement. And then one day, there they are. Prodding us into remembering, into celebrating, into taking those first steps into the new season, onto our new paths. I always think about how snowdrops anagram into sown prods and think that’s so perfect. We sow all these lovely little reminders for ourselves, forget about them, and then rediscover them and are swept up in delight. Isn’t that the most perfect way to live our lives?
And what about you? Are you feeling the stirrings of a new season? Are you feeling like you’ve used your Winter to fill yourself and are now getting ready to plant some seeds? Do you look back at your younger you and delight in her and see how she seeded who you are now? How do you feel about transitions? Do tell – you know I love to hear.
I am all too ready for spring, and not having to wear a jacket in my apartment! Transitions are generally harder for me in anticipation than they are in process–I’m too busy during the event itself to worry, even if the transition itself is bad.
Here’s to Spring and warmer weather and much ease and grace always.
Spring can’t come soon enough. It’s gonna take some time for the mountains of ice/snow to melt away. But it is the life force of Spring. So we endure Old Man Winter for just a bit longer. I am definitely ready. LET YOUR BEAUTIFUL LIGHT SHINE, DEBORAH! You are full of warmth in abundance! And I am grateful to feel its radiation. Aloha from the Northeast…or the North Pole it would seem. Onward…
Thanks for the kind words Vicki – you warmed my heart on this still bitter-cold day. But Old Man Winter will be packing his bags eventually and we’ll be welcoming Spring. Very enthusiastically no doubt. 🙂
Spring is always a time of major change for me. When I’ve quit jobs in the past, it’s usually in the spring and that’s also when I tend to start major new projects. This year is no exception, LOL.
I feel the spring stirring hard this year. There’s an almost physical pull to be outdoors and start tending to the plants and wild things.
There’s just so much power in the call of Spring’s energy isn’t there? Pulling us forward, activating our reach responses, stirring things. Yay to being outdoors in the garden and the wilds.
Deborah, I love the depth of your musings. Your gathering sounds like it was powerful. I’m always humbled to see how much myself and others have deepend and grown over the decades. Here is to your first sighting of snowdrops. I wish I could give you my first thrill of primrose blooms from weeks and weeks ago.
Oh Harmony – primrose sightings! I’m loving these little reminders of what’s to come.
Transitions are hard for me sometimes. I feel as this whole winter has been one big transition with my second son being born in October. It can be a struggle finding your new normal but when you see glimpses of it, it gives you hope.
And I too look forward to spring!
That IS a big transition Melissa. Wishing you much ease and grace.