As long as I can remember, I’ve hated the spring. Having spent springs in Zone 6, it’s a busy time of year for all of the Weather Beings. Everyone shows up: snow, rain, wind, ice, sleet, thunder, heat, cold, clouds, sun. This year, even a visible solar eclipse.
It’s messy. It can be violent. It’s confusing. It’s awkward. It’s a miracle. It’s sacred. It’s choiceless. It’s effortless. It’s all change. And there is no stopping it. It’s a birth that takes months. The expansions and contractions pushing us to our limits.
It’s the range that I find unbearable. It’s the range that I hate.
Mara June says: “Spring is not just soft and stunning, but mighty and fierce, and only arrives through great risk, loss, and interspecies collaboration.”
Summer, with it’s exuberant excess and long, hot days? I’m in.
Autumn, with it’s journey through dying and death? I’m in.
Winter, with is’s womb-like void of darkness and stillness? I’m in.
Birth? Rebirth? Change? New? Chaos? To be wild and messy and in relationship to everything and everyone around me? Yikes.
Karla McLaren taught me that hatred shows up to answer two questions: What has fallen in my shadow? What must be reintegrated?
Hatred is an obstructed form of adoration. Typically, we adore those who are living out positive aspects of ourselves we want but suppress— often why beautiful and talented celebrities are adored. The flip side of this is the projection of the things we would rather stay repressed, perhaps “uglier” aspects of ourselves. If we hate something about ourselves, or feel unable to express these seemingly darker aspects, we will project hate onto those who express that very something.
Spring makes me uncomfortable as it forces me to experience what I often feel unable to express myself in a wild, unapologetic, unavoidable sensual overload.
There is a bravery necessary in spring. Becoming something is difficult, if not unstoppable. Some flowers bloom “too soon” and freeze and die. As if they weren’t going to die anyway. It’s warm and sunny one day and cold and rainy the next. As if I’m not often blissful and grief-filled in back to back breaths. It’s windy and flooded, and trees fall down, exposing their shallow roots and the sheet of granite they were growing upon. Lest we forget that hard, cold places can be wonderful homes for a while.
There is order in the chaos. Somethings, like the crocus, come first—the advance team. They say “More goodness is coming, but look at me. Look at this color purple. My beauty and softness might seem almost strange and out of place right now.” Somethings come in the middle, along with everything else. An explosion of blooms and leaves that bring with it bees and butterflies and more birds. Somethings come last, something to look forward to even with so much excitement already here. Like when there are enough 75-and-sunny days to string together, you forget there was any other way for a day to be.
It’s highlighting where I’ve lost my way a bit: in the range. The bravery, failure, beauty, and vulnerability necessary for collaboration. So with these words, I’m blessing and honoring Spring and it’s honesty. While rolling around in the mud as I digest and integrate this piece of shadow.
May we all be heartened and inspired by the possibility of rebirth and growth that is being reflected to us from the outside in.
May we all receive nourishment as more and more of our days are infused with light.
Root even deeper into Spring and all of the other-than-human-kin that we are in relationship with, and our ancestors with me in Ignite Your Intuition: An Initiation into the Mysteries of Mediumship.
Cohort 2 begins on April 16th!
A 3-month hybrid group and 1:1 mystery school cohort.
April - June 2024
Join a cohort of folks that are remembering their ability to harness extra-sensory perception and their intuition to communicate with their ancestors as well as our other-than-human kin.
Together we will explore intuitive perception, grounding, clearing, expanding the vocabulary of self though other than human kin, learning how to tune into other than human kin, other than humans as elders, intuitives throughout time, altars, and prayer.
Designed specifically for beginners, though folks of all skill levels are welcome.
This is a devotional-deep dive. There won’t be much needed in between our time live, the magic and the work happens while we are together during gatherings. We’ll be together on Zoom twice a week— one group call and one 1:1 call.
This mystery school initiatory cohort has two areas of focus: our ancestors of blood and bone, and other other-than-human kin — plants, animals, and landscapes. These two parallel threads will be woven together to create a rich fabric of relating and communicating with the unseen world that is rooted in ritual safety and our unique destinies. Scholarship spots are still available.