May Day.

Let’s talk about sex.

(Parental warning … this post talks about the birds and the bees. So, you know, if you’re okay talking about the birds and the bees, then by all means … carry on.)

May is a pretty sexy time in nature.

Trees are in full bloom now. The garden’s beginning to grow. The Farmer’s Market in my neighborhood is just starting for the season.  All kinds of flowers are unfolding. Baby animals are being born.

I’m fortunate enough to have friends that farm. So I get to see pictures of wee piglets fighting for their astoundingly patient mama sow’s milk. They also have tiny goats, still wet from birth, already walking on quite wobbly little legs. It’s awesome. New babies being born.

It’s just an amazing show of the power of Life right now.

Everything is so alive and vibrant. I have moments when I’ll turn down a tree-lined street in full spring sexiness. The whole street in bloom, showing off luminous white petals overhead and also strewn across the brilliant green grass below. The whole picture is so surreally vibrant. It’s like … an acid trip.

Spring feels a bit like an acid trip. Things are just brighter. The bright blue sky, with its perfectly placed fluffy white clouds. The buds finally getting ready to open on the last tree that blooms in my yard, hundreds of bright magenta beads outlining every last dark brown branch. It looks like a chocolate jelly bean tree you’d find in a Dr. Seuss land, the Jelly Bean Tree from Phillow Thooee.

And how about the scent from blooming lilacs? If you haven’t lately, the very next time you’re passing a lilac tree, pause for a second. Put your nose right up into the flowers. Don’t be too cool. Just put your nose right up in it and take a deep breath in. It’s wonderful. Ahh … (deep breath) ... lilac! I promise you you’ll take a second breath in there.

I was telling Jaden the other day how I can recall the smell of lilacs from my childhood. I remember the lilac bush that grew along the fence in my front yard. I’d see the lovely lavendar hue of the flowers forming against its lustrous green leaves, and when I’d catch a whiff of their blooms I knew it was almost time for summer vacation. How cool to now have my son, beginning his own annual count down to summer vacation by the clock of the lilac. Only 6 weeks to go, and the lilacs are just beginning to get your attention. When they’re in full show-off mode, and you begin to notice it’s also still light out at bedtime, well then … you’ve made it. Summer vacation is right around the corner.

Everything is absolutely showing off right now, trying to get your attention. And the bees’ attention. And the birds’ attention.

Like I said, spring is a sexy time of year.

One of Earth’s greatest gifts is her power to create all this gorgeous, wonderful life. This is a time to pause for a second and give thanks for the fertile, sexual energy that is present in all life. It’s a time for celebrating the force that brings forth new life and honoring that.

And not just in nature, but also in ourselves. It’s a pretty crazy cool thing to be able to actually create new life. I’m constantly astounded that once there was just Ben and me. And now, we have these two other people, these lives that we’ve made. Ben and I just made these two, beautiful, unique, creative, miraculous new beings. That’s a pretty incredible super power we human beings have. I’ll take a second to stand in awe and give thanks for that.

Sex is an important, necessary, joyous part of life. Without sex there would be no life. So, it seems like a pretty important part of life to give thanks for. And to celebrate. And to enjoy.  This is the time of year that we celebrate the joys of being alive. All the joys. Including the joy we experience in creating life.

And spring is a time when life just feels good. And if, for some reason, you don’t feel good, there’s a zillion trees and flowers and birds and fluffy white clouds in a vivid blue sky showing off, trying to get your attention.

I mean, talk about showing off and trying to get your attention - I haven’t even mentioned the first vegetable now standing proud in the garden … the asparagus. Classic phallic showoff. Isn’t it obvious May Day is all about sex?!

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.