Light begins to outweigh the dark as my chest finally starts to clear after some traditional spring transition bugs. Skins can be uncomfortable to shed; as many of us wriggle and twist our way out of winters’ cocoon, coughs and colds linger.
Grief hangs around too, not quite trusting beckonings of daffodils and lighter evenings even though the world sends an open invitation to parties of blackthorn buds, debutante cherry blossom. Last weekend I danced, a lot, two nights in a row. Wildish energy rising from a secret root system I didn’t know was feeding me. This week the cold snap has me closing petals again, lying in front of the fire with poems, waiting.
It is a different kind of waiting on this side of the equinox. The kind that makes decisions to write things, change things, to make plans, to choose. Strange to think that three years ago we were waiting to come out of lockdown. Reminded of a commission from Meadow Arts over that time, I reflect on how even then Spring offered hope and new life.
The messages in this audio-visual piece still ring true this spring. The Arousing is an old folk name for the vernal equinox, the time of equal dark and light. The time when desire expresses itself from the core of the earth. It will move through us, regardless of our resistance and without a care for the heartbreak of this world.
A dormant plant with no leaves has no energy to rise up and grow shoots. It has to push forth, take a leap of faith. This year I choose to dance, to risk new movement, to let the arousing break through. Supporting our systems with spring herbs and tonics help this: the medicine of nettle, cleavers, dandelion and wild garlic support moving into Spring.
To close this shorter March edition of Words & Wanderings, I offer you an incantation for moving through thresholds and opening doors, with love.