The earth slowly awakens beneath the frost and snow, whispering and calling to us.
Rise! Rise!
Can you feel it or hear it?👂🏻
Be still! Feel the pulse!
It may be very cold outside today, but under the layer of deep freeze, something is stirring.
Each daylight stretches longer while the shadows fade, flowing back into the earth. Something deep within us feels and knows we are not separate from this awakening. We are part of this. The pulse of nature, the rhythm of the seasons, is us. Nature shows us the cycles of life: to rest, to grow, to surrender, and to bloom again.
February 1 and 2 make the mid-point between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. We are moving toward the sun. The energy is slowly changing direction from inward to outward.
It is the gentle awakening of spring, the soft unfolding before the burst of life to come. At this moment, the earth begins to breathe again. In the stillness, vital seeds are planted, and with them arises the promise of new beginnings.
The lifeblood beneath the soil begins to rise slowly, just as our energy begins to sparkle after a time of rest. It is a time for planting seeds and intentions, trusting in what will come, and knowing we are part of something bigger than ourselves.
New beginnings, the blooming of new ideas, dreams, and goals, greater creativity, and an enhanced intuition with a deeper connection to our inner source are themes of 2025, the year of the snake. Which started on January 29; however, snake energy emerges on February 3.
Alignment with this rhythm of awakening and beginning is calling us.
Can you hear it?
I hear it as I also begin a new cycle this month.
For many years, I told family and friends that I was not a number or an age category. Those sentiments still apply.
But this new decade of my life feels different. I have not put my finger on it yet, but there is a sense of new beginnings, adventures, greater creativity and a new, more substantial purpose to my life.
There are no lingering regrets and no feelings of limitations. Instead, there is a feeling of curiosity, expansion, calm and even excitement.
Why not? I have never been here before!
We are the earth waking, the gentle remembrance, the soft bloom. We are the ones who rise again and again in the cycle of becoming, just as Mother Earth does.
Regardless of what is happening in the image outside of ourselves, we hold the key to a new spring bursting forth and creating a new version of the world we live in.
So, dear friends, take a few moments at this time of transition to bring forth your seeds of imagination, creation, and vision of a new world.
Here is a poem by my favourite poet, Mary Oliver, that may resonate with you.
The Summer
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
—Mary Oliver