Transitions

 I celebrated the Spring equinox last week at a cozy community fire.  As we sat around the crackling blaze, we were given time to reflect on the coming Spring and what we were feeling as we made the transition from Winter.  The first things that landed with me involved the softening of the earth, the tentative budding of trees, and the brave crocus blooms that look fragile but prove otherwise.

Then I began to reflect on March itself and what this month holds for me.  I realized quite quickly that March has been, and continues to be, a month filled with significant transitions and milestones.  I have faced great, painful losses and celebrated important new beginnings during this month as well, and both experiences have shaped the trajectory of my life in meaningful ways.  

This realization made me think more about transitions and how we can and do interpret them.  In the moment, up close, it is so hard to really see what is happening.  We are often so caught up in the present moment of change that the time leading up to and away from it feels blurry.  Emotions help to increase that blur as we ricochet between them, often unsure of exactly what we are feeling, other than the power and depth that they carry.   The clarity we seek only comes after we can widen our perspective and take in all that has taken place, and try to find meaning in the aftermath, or afterglow.

Spring feels like it is taking its time to arrive this year, with short bouts of warmth being interrupted by reminders of the season we are moving away from.  I am not sure if I like the slow pace of this transition or if I would prefer the change to come more quickly.  I feel like my patience is being tested by the teasing way we are being shown what is to come, and although being made to wait often increases pleasure, it can also be downright frustrating.  

Perhaps this is the lesson to be learned - speeding through transitions doesn't allow you to fully experience them, to embrace the change, and to respect what is taking place.  Pushing through quickly gets you to the other side where you then need to sit and reassemble before moving ahead.  I speak these words from experience, as many of the March transitions I have been an architect of have moved swiftly, and only afterward have I been able to exhale, evaluate, and move forward. 

This spring is teaching me the lesson of patience and trust: I have no choice but to trust that life is continuing to move forward in the way that it needs to, and what I need to do is continue to show up, believe that the best is happening, and remain patient and open to receive what comes forward for me.