Spring moves and blooms. A branch is a branch and then suddenly it’s full of flowers. Sun in. Sun out. Rain in. Rain out. Can you feel the movement in yourself, too? I do. Even now as I write, storms are moving in and out within minutes.
Spring reminds me, too, that certainty is best held with an open hand. We can be certain that life moves—in us and around us. Yet where it lands, what it forms, or where it goes from there is in constant motion because life is everywhere-moving within us and in everyone and everything around us.
What kind of conduit are you?
The life we experience is a combination of everyone’s defaults and intentions, especially with those with whom we are most closely in contact. We are always creating. We can’t not create.
What kind of conduit will you be?
Spring reminds us that Life is ever-there listening for our direction, our intention, our will, our collaboration, our transformation, and engagement. Will we live yesterday’s season or become its wisdom and prune it, till it in, and invest in a new one? Life doesn’t say, this is the way my tomatoes will be because this is how they grew last year. Last season is complete and a new season is at hand.
Spring is like a surprise for me. It arrives while the clouds are still prevalent in this part of the country and suddenly there is color. I’d almost forgotten the seeds and bulbs I’d planted until they arrive on my path, sprouting, blooming, eager to be picked, enjoyed, eaten. I love surprises.
Even better are the seeds I didn‘t know were there, that come as surprise gifts because thankfully, life is bigger than my imagination. Or that I planted inadvertently simply by joy, love for life, by compassion, discipline, being present to my sorrow, imagination, saying yes, saying no, being myself.
Spring reminds to me trust. To grow myself as a conduit because life moves.