Song of the Season

Eostar. The spring equinox.

A time of new beginnings, of new life and rebirth. 

And doesn’t it just feel that way this time of year? Doesn’t the fresh air and the warm sunshine feel like the beginning of something new? When I hear the robins outside my window again and notice the lilacs starting to bloom it gives me a new energy, my mind starts racing with all the possibilities of the weeks and months to come. I start daydreaming about the projects I’m going to do in my yard this year in my quest to make the outside of my house as charming as the inside, (rather than the blight of the block as I dramatically imagine our neighbors think it is.) This year we’ve already cut down the sad and dowdy birch tree in our front yard and I’m excitedly planning Phase Two, a charming picket fence inspired, of course, by Pinterest.

Spring is the season of planting. We plant in our gardens all the abundant possibilities for the summer harvest. Ben and Jaden always do a beautiful job of clearing out our quaint garden boxes - three perfect, clean-slate squares, full of endless summer possibilities. And every spring we start with the very best intentions. You can’t help but feel inspired by the spring sunshine and the blossoms on the trees. Every year I have this image of us gathering bushels of bounty from our garden boxes. And we have cultivated veggies from our modest garden before, although far fewer than I imagine every April. We’ve had strange-shaped white carrots and lovely little green beans, miraculous Pacific Northwest tomatoes, and a bountiful potato harvest that made Ben feel like he could survive the end of the world. But … more often than not, our seedlings perish because we planted them outside too early. Or, unoriginally, we didn’t water them enough. Or, they survive those trials only to go to seed because we didn’t know when to gather our harvest. But, the outcome isn’t the point each spring. In spring, the point is simply the possibility. Every spring brings the possibility that this could be the year we go off the agricultural grid and conquer the world with our abundant little garden boxes.

While the natural world is bursting with new life and its own infinite new projects, not coincidentally, it’s also a time of personal metamorphosis. Winter’s darkness was a time of low-energy, of turning inward and hibernation. With the spring sunshine comes a personal hatching -  a hatching of new ideas, of new projects and new beginnings in our lives.

My spring project, and a new beginning in my life, is to reengage with my study of the seasons. To pay close attention to what’s happening in our natural world as the seasons change, and to celebrate those changes as they take place. As the wheel of the year turns, I also want to pay close, conscious attention to the changes that take place in my life. As human beings we are all Earth creatures, and as such we are affected by the Earth’s cycles and her rhythms. Whether we recognize it or not, the changing seasons absolutely affect the ebb and flow of our lives.

It’s certainly not hard to see some of the simple ways the changing seasons affect us. Just think about how differently you feel in the middle of winter, when the wind is howling outside and the freezing rain is pelting on your window. All I want to do in those moments is curl up with a blanket over my legs and a hot cup of coffee within very close reach. Compare that to how you feel now, in the midst of spring’s rebirth. For me, it feels like a challenge to be inside. I need to open the doors, let the fresh air in, clean out the cobwebs from a winter spent indoors. It’s definitely not a time for snuggling inside with a book. (Although Seattlite that I am, there’s definitely still a cup of coffee within close reach. Whatever the season.)

You can’t deny in the spring you feel more alive. You just do. When else do you pause to take a deeper breath simply because the air seems … fresher?! The sight of the cherry blossoms, when they’ve fallen and are blanketing the ground like a warm, spring, faerie snow … it absolutely takes my breath away. And not in that cliché writer way. I mean, my breath literally catches in my throat and I’m awestruck for a moment. It is such a beautiful display of spring. I feel so inspired by those moments. And, that inspiration absolutely translates into a new energy and all kinds of new ideas - in the garden, obviously, but also in many other corners of my life.

Coincidentally (or not), this winter a chapter of my life came to an end. Happily, ultimately. But an ending, none-the-less. And I find myself this spring, feeling so hopeful and incredibly excited about the many new possibilities to come. I would bet most of you, in some form or another, are feeling that very same New Beginning energy and excitement in some corner of your life too.

With the myriad of ways the changing seasons affect us, it’s not hard to believe how meaningful the seasons would become when you also pause and honor it. And honoring it doesn’t have to be some big, scary Pagan ritual, calling in the four directions with a priestess woman spouting water like a fountain to create a sacred space. (Although, it certainly can be and I’m sure it’s quite profound when you get past and the chanting and fountaining.) Honoring the season can be as simple as taking a springtime walk and noticing all the joyful signs of new life sprouting. Or, cooking a meal full of seasonal vegetables and symbols of the season. In spring quiche is a wonderful seasonal dish to cook. The egg, of course, is the quintessential symbol of spring. I mean, what represents New Life more than the image of the egg?! (And, have you ever wondered why children decorate eggs to celebrate the Christian resurrection of Jesus anyway? Surprise. It actually has nothing to do with Christianity at all.) 

The point is, just taking a moment to acknowledge the changing seasons, to celebrate all the beautiful, amazing things taking place in the natural world around us … I have a hunch … will make our lives, as human beings living on Earth, so much deeper and infinitely richer. 

So this is my new beginning, my spring hatching as a spiritual being. And this is our story. The story of one family’s journey into Earth-based traditions and the enormous richness that undoubtedly comes with it.