i am grateful for few things more than the passing of seasons. i could never hope to choose a favourite, though i may have tried in the beginning - but each, i have found, is a living, rebirthing thing. just as we as people change with each quiet tick of the clock, the earth too is learning its own energy, settling into it, growing, evolving, stretching. as i find my way into my own skin, i believe the world around me is doing the same.
so spring is here once more. it is, i have always thought, the most intimate of seasons - & what a beautiful, underestimated gift that we are privy to the world regrowing, reblooming. there is a metaphor there. probably one that is so much greater than i could possibly articulate in poetics.
you see it, though, no? that all around us, even amongst the horrible human tragedies happening, the universe simply exists. simply grows its buds, as it has always done, coaxes & nurtures, sheds its coat of snow, brings its quiet beautiful things to life. i think that all humans could learn from that. to take faith in our spring cleaning. take it both as healing & as airing out. cleaning of the home, the mind, the heart - our three most important sanctuaries.
dusting off those forgotten corners, reawakening the dormant loves, sorting through possessions to give away - i have found peace in this, even as anxiety rages at the back of my mind. but this is what healing is to me: the waking up of the world, & the discarding of old things, unwanted things. things that may have once brought me joy but are now unneeded. how many of us have wished so desperately for snow, only to be secretly relieved when it all melts away?
i would like to be soft in the way that spring is soft. in the way of a rose, which is equally content in its budding, in its blooming, in its wilting.
the earth's home & its mind & its heart are all one, & i am learning to embrace the ways of spring cleaning that it has adopted. all around us the whole universe is letting out a great yawn, stretching its wings, making its way into this new beginning. this new blooming. & its birds are flapping restless & song-struck, high into the great wide unknown horizon. i think perhaps it is time for us to join them.