Friday was the first full day of spring and normally that’s a fresh start I like to celebrate. But I missed it this year - because of the news at the moment, the vernal equinox - a day of equal darkness and light - got overlooked.
Think about that - a day of equal darkness and light. Sounds like the moment we’re in. There’s darkness - economic panic, fear of sickness, and the spectre of uncertainty around what’s to come. But there’s also been light - people reaching out across the years and miles, small businesses offering to help (in my city, some of our distilleries have begun making hand sanitizer), and pollution is clearing, as the rush of constant air and land travel comes to a global halt. And in spite of the turmoil of this hour and whatever lies ahead, Mother Nature proceeds with her quiet work of birth, death, and regeneration. Spring is the time that comes after the cold retreat of winter’s silence and it is here. In spite of the interior noise and the rising tension, spring is still here.
“Many people are alive but don’t touch the miracle of being alive.” It sounds simple but it’s true - if you’re reading this (and as I’m writing it), we’re alive. Everyone here on the planet right now, breathing in and out - some growing number of us now with the help of ventilators - all of us, miraculously, still alive.
In 2017, my cousin Rachel passed away after a three year fight with a rare form of cancer. She was young, in her early thirties, and left two young children and a loving family behind. During the last months of her life, to help with pain, we spent time together as I provided therapeutic touch. Even during her last days, when she was on oxygen and mostly asleep, whenever she was awake, Rachel touched the miracle of being alive. Even in the darkest hours of her life, she never failed to ask how I was. She connected. May we each do the same. Now it is spring. ~ natalie.
make :: space.
// FOR LIFE.