If you look at the calendar, or ask a groundhog, or follow the sun, it may not look like Spring just yet. But it is Spring for me. After a long winter of runny noses and Dickensian coughs, my family seems the be on the mend. It’s chilly but our energy is up, particularly mine. I am in motion. I have newness on the brain. I feel like writing, after a long winter of just… not.
I’ve cut meat out of my diet for a second time… I was a vegetarian from the age of 15 until I was 24… here I go again at age 40. Given the meat alternatives on the market, and the fact that I know more about nutrition, it feels new to me. I am planning my garden. Or rather, un-planning my garden, as I’ve decided to give my small raised bed a year of compost and soil renewing love, so it feels like Spring. And I have a new vision for my yoga journey, one where I begin sharing and teaching yoga sooner than I imagined. More on that soon, hopefully.
Yesterday, my yoga teacher’s reading touched on yoga as a garden, on tending our practice like we would a garden. It is a metaphor that speaks to me. A garden flourishes with attention, and a person blooms with intention. A garden and a person experience seasons of abundance, of shedding, of dormancy, and of blooming. I am welcoming this blooming stage, this Spring, as I marinate in this newness.