Spring: Return to Life and Abundance (A Journey Through Six Senses)
Explore the ever deeper and subtler layers of spring on a journey through six senses. End with three guided questions for contemplation or journaling to gather the wisdom you’ve gained in winter, and to prepare for the new beginnings of spring. This is the perfect time to plant your seeds of intention!
We see spring all around us. We see it in every new colorful bloom that bursts forth each day, the tulips and the daffodils, the apple blossoms, and if you’re lucky and slightly farther south, the magnificent magnolias. We see it in the longer days and the bright, sunny evenings. We see it in each other, in every walker, biker, runner taking advantage of this sweet, short season that somehow marries the best of cool fall mornings and warm summer evenings.
We hear it, too. We hear the sweet melodies of a thousand birds returning to their homes, their young merrily exploring the world for the very first time. We hear the soft and welcome breeze whispering through the trees. We hear the lawn mowers, the leaf blowers and all those other sounds we’d rather not be hearing, but that signal to us nonetheless this change of season.
And then, ahhhh yes, we smell it! Nothing quite compares to the intoxicating fragrance of fresh lilacs, the powerful aroma of delicate lily of the valley, those enchanting scents that awaken our senses after the long and dormant winter. There’s a reason for the saying “stop and smell the roses;” spring reminds us that even amongst this frenetic return to life, we still must take the time to slow down, to breath deeply, to be present. For those that remember, spring rewards us grandly.
As we turn our attention subtler still, we notice the taste of spring, too. We pull our very first bright green chives bursting forth from the earth – planted decades ago and returning dutifully each and every spring – and taste the bright and pungent flavor dancing on our tongue, bringing us back to younger days and grandmothers devilishly encouraging us to eat these strange weeds from the garden. We find ourselves turning to lighter nourishment, leaving behind the hearty soul-soothing comforts of winter in exchange for bright and leafy and crunchy and colorful.
Subtler still, we touch spring, as well. Teasing us with what’s to come, warming the earth with glimpses of summer, we wipe the very first beads of sweat from our brow, feel a familiar stickiness on our skin, watch the beads of condensation collect at our palms clutching tumblers of cool refreshment. As waters warm, we dip toes into the icy coolness, willing the sun to do its work. We pick yellow dandelions from the yard, saving a few hearty souls before spring’s first haircut, their bright pollen leaving a delicate chalkiness on our fingertips.
We experience spring through our five palpable senses, and are rewarded with many a sensory delight. Yet as we continue to turn inward, ever deeper and subtler still, we notice a sense that cannot be touched, or heard, or seen. We feel spring inside ourselves; an awakening deep within, a buzz of energy, a pressure of anxiousness, even agitation. It is at this time we feel our very own potential rising up inside ourselves, an energy we can utilize towards the manifestation of something bigger, brighter, more extraordinary than our current state.
It is at this time that we, too, are the tiny bud, a microcosm of spring, this pent-up energy potential ready to burst forth into magnificence at any moment. Ironically, there is nothing we have to do – we can be the quiet observer, noticing this feeling of spring inside ourselves and awaiting our own abundance; knowing we cannot stay in our current state forever, as comfortable as it may be; knowing we cannot rush the process either, as anxious as we are to move on; knowing we are destined to blossom into our next chapter, and into a season of being fully alive.
As we move out of winter, through spring, and begin to long for the summer ahead of us, this is a good time to pause and reflect. As with any new chapter or beginning, it is always beneficial to reflect on where we’ve just come from. When we pay attention, every chapter of life teaches us some wisdom about our lives or some knowledge about ourselves.
- Find a few moments for quiet reflection: this would be appropriate at the end of a yoga or mediation practice, but could also be done sitting at your desk with a few quiet moments carved out between the end of the workday and the beginning of your evening, or while taking a peaceful walk, or while simply gazing out a window at the bounty of spring.
- Ask yourself these questions one at time, pausing before you move on to the next: there are no right answers, allow anything to bubble up from within. You may choose to ponder these questions quietly, journal about them, or even share your thoughts with a close friend.
- What wisdom am I bringing with me from the dark of winter?
- What do I wish to grow more of in my life?
- What do I need to let go of in order to create space for this?
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” –Anais Nin