While the long, beautiful spines of a mature barrel cactus are truly a sight to behold, they are woven so tightly together, across the cactus' ribs that any environmental detritus that falls on or around the cactus, becomes entangled.
Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. In honor of his efforts toward peace and equality, today, we will be discussing elements of peaceful protest, being true to yourself, and the MLK Jr. World Peace Rose Garden in Georgia.
Be as the dormant seed, beginning to germinate in the desiccated trunk of its predecessor, full of potential and vibrant life.
Wreaths weren't always a thing to put on your door during the holidays. In many places, they still aren't. While door-hanging wreaths have now been adapted for any season, they used to be more akin to celebratory laurels or flower crowns.
Human rights and diversity are important regardless of your background, dear reader, but are perhaps most spotlighted when concerning those members of society whose voices tend to be suppressed in some way. Minority voices are important, brightening and enlivening the global human narrative, whether that be religion, ethnic background, sexual orientation, gender expression, relative ablebodiedness, or other aspects.
This time of year is about reaping what was planted in the growing time. Look to your Springtime goals, dear reader, and see what you have accomplished. Do you still need to do more on certain projects? Are there others that have fallen dormant but you still hold on to?
Whether it be physical, mental, emotional, or otherwise, dear reader, you can heal from injury.
Have you ever seen an old, decomposing tree stump in the depths of the forest, with a seedling sprouting from its ruin? The decomposition and complete breakdown of the old makes way for an emergent new life form, providing the impetus for its growth and development.
Water is party to all things, dear reader. While all Earth-dwelling embodied lifeforms have their own characteristics, goals, needs, and expectations of their environments, water is a common necessity they all share. Without proper hydration, the brain's receptors stop interpreting and correlating information and general organ failure occurs, plants are unable to photosynthesize, and moisture continues to evaporate from the body at a rather high rate.
Have you ever noticed, dear reader, how a an unbalanced, top-heavy thing is prone to collapsing? Some things are balanced by having a flat base on which to build, brick structures forming in orderly fashion. Some have a reasonably stable base and overall structure, but topple when the weather or environment changes.
Sometimes, we all need to remember that. Sometimes, whatever we're going through can seem so exciting, so daunting, so terrifying (not mutually exclusive, I've checked), that we have to take a moment and just breathe.
Death is a part of life, even in the Spring. There is new, budding growth on trees awakening from Winter's grasp. There are young lambs born and frolicking in the meadows. There is visible potential at nearly every turn. This is the same for death and decay.
Getting out in nature is therapy, a form of self-care. People often say that they need to "go be in nature." Where is this nature? Is it the mountains, tall trees a sheltering canopy overhead? Is it the violent waves crashing against a battered rocky shoreline? Perhaps "nature" is the expansive park in your town square, home to childhood games and Sunday picknicks.
Today is Easter, the time when in the Christian tradition, someone who was once presumed deceased is reborn into a new, but strikingly similar form. Yesterday was World Transgender Awareness Day, celebrating a community so often misunderstood, harassed, or ignored--a community whose very nature calls out in an expression of change, ideally able to embrace the individual's truest self. On the Spring Equinox, March 20, was Ostara, the transition between the hibernation and death of winter into the rebirth and new life of spring. I find it apt that all three of these events occur during a liminal period, not entirely one or the other--the dusk of one season and dawn of the next.