Doorway To Spring

I donated my Christmas decor. It was mid-winter and I found myself purging and cleaning as if I was ready for spring to arrive early. I donated two large boxes as if releasing them into the world would release me from hibernation. Unfortunately, it didn’t speed up time or bring out the sun, but it did something else. It created space and left behind confidence. I’ve noticed that acting upon an idea once you’ve had clarity creates more clarity and forward motion. Even when there’s hesitation, I say, just do it! One step will create the momentum you need.  

My goal was to research and explore traditions that originated from across the world. I decided to let go of American holidays for one year as I lean into our origins. First, I leaned into the slow, blanketing waves of winter, allowing it to make me drowsy as I passed through each cold, clouded day. I wished for spring, longed for sun but chose to stay present with the cold around me, to tuck into myself like a fox in it’s den, tail curled around my body. 

A friend pulled me into a circle of women sitting around a bonfire speaking truth like sparks in the night. We followed a barefoot path into the river, gasping for breath when it was lost. “Like on the day you were born, your first breath was in the water,” I felt her steady voice in my bones.  

I stood ankle deep, staring into the night and cried. The cold stones beneath my feet saw me let go and receive all at once. The women heard my heart tumbling out. It landed on safe, fresh soil as if spring had come. But it hadn’t. Not yet.  We still waited patiently. Caught our breath. Sought footing.  

Then I saw a patch of green peeking out from beneath dead leaves. Spring. It’s coming! And yet, the cold air crept back under the blankets at night, freezing my toes. This time, I awoke. I began to prepare. How does one prepare for spring? How does one welcome it and invite it in with patience? A candlelit night crept up just in time for whispered dreams to come true. Together, we began to prepare for spring. Together, we leaned into presence. We found our footing. Now we move forward with intention so as not to miss a step. I walk with panther paws passing over river rocks onto new grass.  

This weekend, I raked my yard, uncovered the green, encouraged it along. My son was inspired. Suddenly, we were raking our neighbor's yard and baking him brownies for his birthday. The wheel turns.  

This afternoon, I talked about the seasons of the year with my preschoolers, showing them a circle divided into four segments. Each segment was labeled as Spring, Summer, Fall, or Winter. I placed a dot on each line. I told them, “See this dot here? This is where we are. We are in the doorway of spring. It’s not spring yet, but it almost is.”  

We reflected on spring: What we love about it, what our hopes were for it, what we could do while we waited. We can play outside. We can swing in the hammock. We can prepare the soil. We can plant seeds.  

We gathered treasures from the woods and river that reminded us of each season and placed them in our own stick circles. We painted with flowers. We sprinkled flower petals over our heads like confetti.  

I was reminded of those Christmas decorations this evening while thinking ahead for the coming year. I smiled. I picked flowers up from my floor. Children’s laughter wafted through the open door. I wonder what December skies will bring.