Spring unfolds…minute by minute, day by day. Life continues. Steady. Uninterrupted. Like a delicate cell membrane absorbing nutrients, this gentle message permeates my being as I saunter in the sweet sun. No quarantines on spring. Without a tinge of anxiety or fear, she and her companion, Mr. Sun, continue to show up bright and early each day.
Walking outdoors has been wonderfully grounding. I’ve made a point to venture out daily; many days twice. A tincture of serenity amid the stress. Like the slow, steady drip of essential IV fluids, the hopeful news of nature settles into my bones, bringing strength and peace. I’ve caught the calls and chirps of simple birds like never before. Each day new trills, warbles, and “brrrsts” of energy. A free symphony; the wind conducting, the clouds stopping by, and the trees always attending. Wondrous melodies float in the ether, uncaring of critics or social media numbers. Surly spring itself is no different this year. Being present to nature in this slow and consistent way has been a revelation. How have I missed this all my life?
As I walk, nature listens…patiently, receiving my worries, fears, and my sometimes shallow breathing. She gives back peace, and steadiness. Speaking through the birds, through trees budding and flowers exploding with color, she whispers messages of hope and enduring beauty.
As the rhythms of cicadas rise and fall, the pulse of life springs forth from musty mud. The smell of hope. Warm, smooth winds wind their ways, swirling and stirring. Soon there will be frogs croaking and crickets crooning.
Unperturbed. Soothing and steadfast. I try just to be still, and listen. Somehow it stimulates remembrances of the Grand Canyon…feeling small and soothed…held by a benevolent BIG.
It’s felt grounding to hear colleagues describe the holidays they celebrate this time of year–Passover, Hindu festivals and New Year—and how its brought them a semblance of stability. The larger patterns of life bounce gently as Easter approaches. Rituals bearing their gifts of comfort and reminders of deeper roots…
Spring is normally a time of cleaning. Now so frequently our hands, doorknobs, and so many surfaces. Perhaps even our consciousness is opening for gentle reflection…a polishing of our priorities? Of what really matters? The wise words of Richard Rohr resonate with me…“Life is not about us, but we are about life.” (1)
The steadiness of nature soothes, her cycles and seasons rhythmic and predictable. Safety embodied. Quietly she sings: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” (2)