The air begins to smell different and the crisp in the air isn’t wintery, but instead is lighter and inviting. Our souls begin to stir, to want to move out of that winter hibernation and slower state of mind. There is life in our bones. Our souls begin to stretch internally, like they’re having a spring awakening.
This week, I literally spent all day at work, except for my lunch hours, when I ran errands. I still felt smothered from the weekend. How many places did I walk in and out of trying to find that new spring piece I was looking for? Instead of seeking spring, I sought perfection in being creative.
On Sunday, around 4, I finally stopped working and snoozed away on the couch under my orange blanket. Hallelujah, rest. Monday I felt smothered by the clock, the lines, and the specifics I had to notice as I reported for the weeks ahead.
I put all of my work away when I got home, though. I threw on my sneaks and yoga pants and wrapped myself in a warm jacket. I hit the trail, and the first thing I noticed was new, fresh dirt that was buried under last year’s old leaves. Nature’s spring cleaning had begun.
My lips were hidden in my zipped-up fleece, but I raised my face out of the warmth and inhaled the cold, fresh air. At the end of my trail before I turned back, I heard birds chirping as if they were babies, newly hatched. I could not see them, and they drew my attention as if I had never heard that sound before. Of course I had, but it was spring again, and everything was new. I noticed the gray buildings and dead tree branches and then, I had a realization.
Life always comes after death. You have to “die within things” to be reborn. What’s your rebirth? A relationship? A tradition? A career?
Later that week, I was sitting in a restaurant when I saw a person with whom I ended a friendship with around nine years ago. I smiled and sat down, and she sat at a table next to me. At one point, I held a negative energy around her friendship, but that night, I felt nothing. No panic, no anger, no discomfort. That season of turmoil, much like the passing winter, was in the past, gone. How refreshing it was to begin anew.
We don’t normally embrace “dying within things.” We cry, hide, and hurt but in time, we awaken, just like spring. We are no longer strangled, suffocated, or held down in mud-murky waters. We are fresh, we are new, and we are reborn.