Imagine starting a walk today at sunrise. Notice the intensity of the sun in its rising. Warmth and strength are the qualities to this light that is shifting toward spring. Your walk takes you up a hill and cresting this, there is a robin at the very top of an oak, fully bathed in light. Its song heralds the day in crisp notes.
What hill are you cresting right now? How are you heralding in this change in your life?
Up and over the hill you continue. Changes of snow melt and open water on the river give way to an abundance of migrating life. Flocks of black and white ducks that used to be along this stretch of river is now filled with returning geese. The rowdy bunch are back gossiping bunching up in their community. It is noisy, filled with life, a return.
How is your balance between noise and quiet? Is your community inspiring? Are you being drawn to a particular connection?
From the horizon in the west flew a lone heron toward the dawning of the day. Steadily it flies in a straight line, unwavering. It continues overhead above you and onward toward the rising sun.
What are you working on in solitude? What could make your progress “in line” toward its rising into completion? What kind of company do you keep in your head as you maintain your course? Where is it heading?
Looking up with a different honk, a flock of trumpeter swans are passing overhead. There are about twenty to their group as their sleek white bodies glide above. Their return is not to here but much farther north. We are just graced with their passing. Just seeing them is a gift. We have people and experiences that are like these swans. The gift of retreat or learning something new can illuminate a moment to steady the course and mark the path. We all have moments where we remember when someone or something influenced the path that we travel. To find what really resonates with our being and calls for us to grow are lamps. These lamps along the illuminate our truth as we travel along.
How do I want to illuminate my journey? What informs me currently? Is there an emergence needing extra light? What would that be?
Carrying on along the river, you come to a swirling dam. The water that is dammed up comes out in a torrent, a swirl, a jumble. With the snow melt, this water does not want to stay back, there is too much for the narrow opening. It whirlpools, bubbles, turns back on itself and dives deep. Change can be like a dam. When something changes, we try to make sense of it in the parameters of our life. This can narrow the opening of understanding. We limit the possibilities and restrict acceptance. What jumble this can feel like. Yet, being fully with what is, there is an expansiveness where feelings and cooperation can freely flow.
What has worked well to make sense of change? Am I holding back on change that is causing a dam of resistance? What would it be like to let go a little more and allow transition?
Up and over another hill to round back you, you descend a snowy patch onto ice. Before you know it, you are looking at the sky flat on your back from slipping.
What are your instincts when a sudden unexpected event comes? Do you try to rush to stand? Do you take a moment and assess? Do you notice the blue sky with white tufts while getting your bearings?
Nature is always teaching us. Yes, this was my walk this week welcoming the early spring that is arriving. Nothing broken, I’ve got a beautiful purple knee and gratitude that all is well. I invite you to be in nature and look for parallels between what you see and what is happening in your life. This is a way to inform yourself of where you are at. This type of noticing can clear up resistances, meet fully what you feel, and serve as a useful guide for next steps. You can also do this with a friend. Next coffee date, take a walk in the woods instead. As your story is told, ask you friend to help you find metaphor in the woods that matches what you are working on. Do the same for the other. What a gift of listening you would give to each other.
Namaste,
Laura