Never was there a more perfect time to start a blog for you all than in the spring, the period well known for its fresh starts. However, as Margaret Atwood wrote, "in the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt". Well, that doesn't seem fresh at all …
I prefer to see spring as the start of the new year, rather than January 1st, when the world is still dark and we are still in the stronghold of winter. In spring, we tend to the ground, we start churning the soil up, awakening the fresh minerals, the decaying autumn leaves that are renewed in the energy they give to the new life that grows from their remnants. We plants bulbs for summer flowers and we hope that they will take to their new, nourishing, earthy beds.
The reason spring is so profound is that change is so present, so vibrant, in the pink and white blossoms, in the sticky buds growing on old tall trees and the leaves growing green and luscious. But we mustn't let the delicate appearance of this process detract from the work that is going on, the service that these vibrant blossoms provide. All this life that goes on in this period comes from a need to survive, to encourage pollination and so on. It is a cycle of growth, even from the depths of a quiet and sparse winter. Despite the cyclical nature of, well, nature, there is something miraculous about it every year. How many exuberant springs might we experience in our lifetime? Do we remind ourselves of it enough?
What I'm trying to say is that, as a collective, there has been pain and struggle. This past autumn and winter especially. It would be quite understandable to think that there is not one good thing in this world. But there is always space for growth to take place. Spring does not just happen, it is a continuous act that begins with the end of decay, it blooms directly from what came before. Life is full of pain, struggle, brutality, and even on our personal level we are full of hypocrisy, full of pain and struggle and brutality, but also goodness. In winter we might feel that nothing will ever be good, that the trees will always be bare, but then spring comes.
And so does the work.
By embracing our own darkness, by tending to what no longer serves our emerging self, by confronting - even through discomfort - our own flaws and wrong-doings we are able to flourish. Our trees and our flowers do not grow freshly from nothing. They grow and are nourished by those that came before, the lifeful plants from the year before. Similarly, we cannot erase parts of ourselves, the mistakes we made, or the wrong we did. However, we can use the learning that comes from those pains to tend to who we want to be, for ourselves and for our community. We are invited to churn up those layers of the past year, that which no longer serves us, get our hands dirty, and learn something from them, be nourished by what we find (in sometimes a confronting way), and make space for something new, and bold and wonderful. Humanity has been feeling very bleak recently, but if nature can change, then so can we, and we must.
Impermanence is the only 'constant'. No feeling is forever, and we are capable as a collective to move and evolve.
I have been listening to some calming instrumentals to help blow away some wintery cobwebs, so for those who have been experiencing an internal winter themselves, I hope this brings some calm.
Additionally, if you resonate with what I have written, and you have been feeling compelled to engage in work on yourself to change, and would like to come to therapy to explore (and pilgrimage!) together, then I would welcome you to get into contact so we can discuss what you are looking for for your future. Check my website contact page for details!