I changed my coat this morning… because it feels like spring is finally here. No more the quilted cover of hibernation, with fur around the hood and a button up collar. Now a lighter, green affair, enabling me to open up, stretch and cast off the weight of winter. Liberated! Optimistic. Pushing eagerly forward. What a difference!
What does Spring mean to you? What are the words and images which come to mind? Light? Clarity? Colour? Freshness? Warming? Cheer? Potential? Growth? What are your words?
How will what you do now reflect your images of spring?
If you are in need of energy, growth and direction after a ‘dormant’ period either at home or at work, how will you find that energy? Who can help you generate it? What will bring you cheer? How will you fulfil your potential this year?
What seeds will you plant to flourish later?
If you’re thinking of a change – of job, of career, a house-move, of direction – what will you do now to prepare for later in the year?
How will you keep the shoots watered and fed?
As what you’ve planted begins to grow, how will you keep the momentum and the initial enthusiasm? Who will help you keep going in those moments of doubt? What will nourish you and keep you strong? How can you keep hold of your vision when the shoots haven’t yet begun to push through?
What will you ‘spring clean’?
What is there that you’d like to leave behind and let go of? Or what will you re-visit and dust off; with what or with whom will you re-engage?
And if you’re still in your winter coat…
…that’s OK too. Each in our time. Perhaps focusing on three things are you grateful for today will provide a gentle, positive shift. Or connecting with a friend or a simple act of kindness, for yourself or someone else.
A spring poem
I’ve been sharing a lot of poems from this book recently with my little boy.
Each poem reflects a significant date in history or the season. It’s connected me again with lots of other poems I’ve enjoyed over the years. Here’s one which I think perfectly sums up days like today.
Early Spring – by Rainer Maria Rilke
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.