May
as we enter the portal of beltane, we official make the full step into the light half of the year
i see us standing in a glen. still with warm socks to keep out the lingering cold of the dark half of the year, biting at our heels. as we approach the threshold we pause. the archway is beginning to show signs of life. ivy growing along stone. birds perched, in full discussion of what it is we’re waking up to.
this moment is potent. but aren’t they all?
this moment speaks to leaving something behind. as we must. some piece of us that is weathered and dark. the deep, wise feminine that’s held us for half the year, truly and fully, goes back to sleep. it’s in these moments that winter stops nipping at our heels.
and yet maybe the ask to leave something is too much. i want to carry some of this with me. consciously. i want to pack it safely away in my knapsack and bring it along to refer back to.
i have more grey hair than i did last year. something in me shifts as i notice them. it’s almost as if i’m giddy. thank god. they’re finally here. thank god. maybe i’ll weave these stories of winter, the crone, into those hairs. or maybe they’re already woven. maybe they grew from the harshness of the cailleach and the lessons she’s taught me.
—
in may we welcome summer and we acknowledge the ripening of spring. both are existing in the same moment. the height of something and the beginning of another. it’s now when we step fully, both feet, into expansion and community. into outward experiences and engagement. the kind of engagement that requires two hands and two feet, reaching out and on. there’s not a lot of in. we’ve been in. now we move out. and in moving out we are forced to get more comfortable with exposure (always the most distributive aspect of summer for me). for those of us that love exposure, revel in it. and please, teach those of us who shy away from exposure just how to do it.
this year i am more committed to being out. out in a way that requires strength and trust and leaning into things that feel uncomfortable. because i am learning that as deep as i go inwards, i must also travel as far outwards. and this winter was deep. the deepest its been. so the reverse of that must also be true. or at least i’ll try my hardest to make it happen.
—
there’s so much thinking we do in the winter. in the dark half of the year. in spring/summer, the light half of the year, there’s less of that. it’s more about being in the body. being. beeeee-ing. less about the imagination and living on the third floor. all of that will happen because summer is when the cork pops. but for the cork to pop there has to be a bottle. without a bottle, there is no cork. so we’re playing with that.
it makes me wonder what that experience is like for you (and for me too). so please, keep chewing on it. keep thinking about.
how can i really be in my body this season?