It’s easy to see that spring is coming. From the rains here in northern California to the way the hills are neon green, the seasons are shifting. The winds are harder in the afternoon, blowing in the warmer air, the drier air.
And the moon’s light is waning, as it does. As it does.
I want to tell you that it’s easy to remember this is all a cycle of rebirth. I want you to know in your bones that everything that goes will return. That all that grows will fall away too.
But in the moments when it’s all about to shift, there is a moment of wondering. Maybe things won’t go back to the way they were. Maybe things will simply stop.
The great pause. The breath before continuing to speak. The hesitation before saying tough things. The instance when you have a choice.
To trust. One way or another.
To trust in the world. To trust in the moon. To trust in the hearts of others. To trust in yourself.
To know that healing is the journey. To know that resting is just as valuable as doing.
To take a step, even a small one. Because sometimes action can look like stillness. A break. Discernment.
For this new moon, take a breath. A luxurious breath. The kind of breath that enters into the cells of your being and reminds you of life.
Reminds you of springtime and the beckoning of all that blooms and unfurls and becomes.
Go to a flower, a bud and sit with it.
Sit with the time it takes to notice the small exhale of change.
Under the darkness or out in the day, become a part of the newness.
Breathe that in. Remember.
Sometimes ritual can look like waiting.
Sometimes magick can be the act of just showing up.
Sometimes it looks like sitting.
Sometimes it looks like noticing that in all of the rain, things are always happening.
If you just stop to look. To wait. To breathe.