" I love the first tingling of Spring when the sunlight lingers just a little longer and you can almost feel the whole world soften as the birds chirp nearby. Puddles take slowly to the sky and you gently wake up to what's growing inside". M.L Cole.
With the official season of Spring beginning late tomorrow afternoon, I walk past the mounds of snow looking settled and comfortable in front of my home and around our neighborhood and still I sense the change in the sun's intensity and feel a different energy all around me. I wonder if you have noticed Spring even with the blanket of white still outside your door or whatever other conditions tell you that winter is still in full swing. When I maneuver through the tree stands in the park, I recognize the strength of each even as they remain dormant, producing nothing yet, that we can see from our outside view. Still, they have remained intact throughout the past few months regardless of the storms or unfavorable conditions. They have endured this time with grace, beauty, calm, and stillness. They show up for no one but themselves. Remaining steadfast in their dormancy with much activity below the ground's surface preparing them for bloom. It can be challenging to think that below this protective surface, there are plants being protected from the temperatures. They have been conserving their energy while they wait for warmer days to return. These same warmer temperatures will bring the seeds to form new plants and growth in existing ones. The snow is insulating the soil that protects these seeds and plants and even holds the heat that helps to insulate some animals from the harsher temperatures we have experienced. The animals have followed this process by slowing down their bodily functions for a while but will soon resurface. Now we will slowly notice the activity begin again with the plants that were tucked under the snow beginning to show, and new growth on houseplants that we may have thought were dying in the past few months. These are just a couple of signs of the beautiful promise of the changes to come.
Sitting at the table having our morning snack together, one of my students was watching me very intently. She wanted to know what I was eating which I believe was a few cut-up strawberries with sun butter for dipping. I think it was the sun butter that piqued her interest but maybe it was just a segway into a conversation. Either way, she giggled about how she didn't know anyone dipped strawberries like this and I explained some other things she was wondering about in my lunch. Next, she noticed the bracelet on my arm and told me how much she liked it. Another student at the table chimed in and asked if I could buy her one like it for next Valentine's day. I smiled and said, "We'll see". My own daughters know this as my polite answer for probably not. Mostly because next Valentine's day this student wouldn't be sharing a class with me and would have long forgotten about this conversation and it was much more polite at the time than just a flat-out no. As I talked with this student, the lunch inquisitor seemed to continue to keep her focus on me, listening and watching both my words, and mannerisms as I spoke. Perhaps she was asking herself unconsciously or consciously if I was safe for our next interaction. A smile came over her face and she said," Ms. Higgins, why do fish swim in salt water?" I turned to her and returned her smile, and declared I had no idea. The giggle reemerged with, "because pepper makes them sneeze". When she was done laughing with a sense of self-admiration for executing this hilarious joke, she offered, "I found it on google". Next, she asked me to pull her finger and I told her I knew where this was heading. I packed up my snack to get the students ready to go outside and she shouted over my shoulder, "I got that from google too". Sometimes students surprise us. Who am I kidding most of the time, students surprise us. We can think a student is not engaged, living in their own head or experience, or unaware of what is happening around them. We can make assumptions that they wouldn't understand certain humor, wit, or even be inquisitive enough to want to know new information. It can be easy to miss the process of growth when most of the time it remains dormant, waiting for the safe circumstance to bloom or peak through the present underbrush, in this case, of childhood.
The concept of dormancy has been churning around in the crevices of my scattered and intentional thoughts this week. Like the reason for dormancy with plants and animals where they prepare to conserve energy in conditions that emerge that can be stressful, there is a certain appeal to do the same for all living things. Maybe you felt the pull of the winter months to lie dormant in some form of expression, creativity, relationship, or work. Perhaps all of your energy has been in rest, comfort, dreaming, percolating new ideas, being embodied, or healing old wounds. Whatever the case, I wonder how you were feeling about this stoplight in a part of your life as you too, unconsciously or consciously waited for the feelings of safety, the right circumstance, or time to bloom again.
I have been thinking of how affirming it would be to have someone witness our dormancy in rest, disconnecting, stepping away from creating, or productivity, or whatever way it usually shows up in our lives. If that was also acknowledged and valued by the observer that we were engaged in something sacred, worthy, and needed, especially if this observer was indeed ourselves. What if we could conjure the same feeling of love and adoration we feel while watching a sleeping baby, towards ourselves? When we look so longingly at the peace, surrender, and the way they give in to what their fragile bodies need. Perhaps we are wishing we could offer this to ourselves as well with compassion and ease. How they trust unabashedly the natural process of being dormant and we trust that this is crucial to their health, growth, and ability to thrive, confirms the obvious for all humans. If we extended this trust to our own instincts to do this, maybe we could remember what a gift this is to everyone in our circle and beyond.
What if we also looked with these same loving eyes and thought to ourselves about how much is happening below the surface. Beyond the outward appearance of inactivity, withdrawal, stillness, retreat, or whatever way we have respectfully become dormant and were able to see it as the cocooning of the butterfly and so necessary. Maybe we could cultivate a curiosity or excitement about what might be birthed from this or how much healing will take place as a result of this conserving of energy for now and for the blooming to come.
Instead of the search in ourselves for our predictable, constant output or connection, if we honored this need in all of us to sometimes step away or become inactive in some aspect of our lives so that we could do the work below the surface that may only be realized through rest and honoring the magic of this.
Perhaps we could spend more time taking nature's lead and that would help us to separate from the expectations of increasing our output to match the man-made world of machines. Not becoming alarmed like we do when the networks we rely on stumble on a glitch for an hour, a day, or more. Knowing that everything needs to turn off at some point to work again including ourselves. Also remembering that seasons and cycles live within us and need to be honored in our lives.
In whatever way we are resurfacing in the coming days, weeks, or months, may we hold close the lingering memory of dormancy with acceptance and the appreciation it deserves for offering us the space of the winter season to be and belong to something larger than ourselves with the strength and resolve of all that lies below the ground's surface and our own. And may this nurturance we have witnessed for ourselves prepare us to bloom anew.
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