To remember my own steadiness

Good Morning,

Spring's energy is bursting--flowing up and out, moving to and fro.

The days are longer.

The light lingers.

It seems like the perfect time to start, well, everything.

Everyone seems to be doing more, expecting more, moving faster, talking louder.

If you're feeling this too, you might have ended up where I did the other day, with my energy buzzing and scattered outside myself in no small way.

My body was tired but my hands were almost shaking.
My heart was heavy, but I couldn't put my finger on a single feeling.
My mind was preoccupied, with nothing in particular.

So, I said: Enough.

I canceled what I "had" to do (which was important, and a lot), and sat myself down under the old oak tree, down by the river.

I stopped to bend close to the Earth, to listen to her heartbeat in soil and stone.

There to re-member my own steadiness.

There to come back to my being-ness, my own tangible earthly body.


I leaned down close and noticed not just the leaves and stems growing, reaching for sun and sky, but the roots too, extending, just down instead of up.

Sinking, diligent and hidden, down into the dark ground.

Moving steadily, into realms silent and unseen to human eyes and ears.

Also, I remembered, casting a soft gaze across the forest floor, that the green ones don't come all at once.

Each one has its own time.

Today, the bloodroot, wings opening and closing with each sunrise and set, with pure white blooms and fleshy taproots that bleed blood red, just like me.

Tomorrow, the hepatica, with its face of pale violet and barely there leaves, where the fairies must take shelter, I think.

And next, the bluebells shining, nodding with the breeze as if agreeing with how handsome we think they are.

So yes, Spring is the most expansive time of year when so much seems to burst forth, bloom and become, but it's this too:


Moving deep and down as well as reaching up.

Each thing emerging in its own time.

And, remembering to rest.

Love and breath and beauty to you,
xo Liv