A week ago, I got together with a group of women I’ll call the goddesses to celebrate the spring equinox. We each took three small pieces of paper and wrote down “seeds” we wanted to plant for ourselves, for our family and for the world, respectively. The only rule was that each seed must be something simple and attainable (i.e.; reaching out more to your neighbors and building a sense of community in the neighborhood rather than asking for world peace.) We then “planted” our seeds of intention by tossing each piece of paper into a fire so that it would be transformed and go out into the world to become reality.
There, around the fire on the back patio of my goddess-like friend’s house, I was reminded that even while the earth may not visibly radiate with the magic of the universe, as we see in the year-round plant life of milder climes, the magic is there, and it has been gathering, volcano-like, beneath the cold, cracked surface, gaining energy and waiting for the right moment to erupt.
Accordingly, this spring has exploded with unabashedly glory. It’s ambitious. Daring. It’s not even April and the tulip trees are in full grandeur, hyacinth perfumes the air and our maple has neon green shooting from its branches. The divine is surging in the fearlessness of the tulips, open wide in the sun, and in the summery glow on my sons’ cheeks, framed with sweaty hairlines from hours of play.
The earth is leading by example, showing us how to sprout beauty at will.
The season for rebirth may have come earlier than expected, at least in Chicago, but the energy in the universe is supporting everyone’s spring into a full, vibrant expression of self. Let’s not wait for someone to tell us when the time is right, or operate under man-made laws about what, when and how to follow our hopes and dreams. Let’s just go for it. Plant some seeds and burst forth in all our glory.