Here in South Dakota it is a strange year indeed, confusing us all. But we look for the pasque flower to poke its head up and out - our state flower, in fact.
I think of Imbolc and the cross-quarter festivals as ways to keep us connected and give us inspiration from the cycle of the seasons.
Climate change is throwing a lot of what we think of as "normal" weather into confusion. I hope your pasque flowers persist in blooming as a sign of spring even if winter hasn't seemed like winter this year.
The heart made of moss was beautiful. It reminded me of Robin Wall Kimmerer's first book, the one about moss. This morning's fog turned the the mosses in my lawn into almost neon green as the last of the snow continues to melt under unseasaonably warm temperatures for this time of year. The maple trees are confused as some tried to bud in a warm spell in December and elders warn it may not be a year to tap them for syrup as drought sets in. Is winter broken? Or is this a break in the season? Looking for signs, spiritual and otherwise. Imbolc!
Gathering Moss was the first book of Robin's that I read, and I love it still!
Winter isn't broken, but it's definitely changing, especially in the northern Midwest where you live, and in the Northeast. Here I'm the Southwest, we're having an El Niño winter, which means lots of moisture, but not as much cold. I hope you get more snow and cold soon.
Here in Western Michigan it was in the mid40s with a beautiful blue sky. False Spring, UT it gives hope when the grey winter days return. And they will. So I celebrate the preview of what will come in a couple of months as I read seed catalogs.
Seed catalogs are wonderful Imbolc reading! They remind us that spring really is on its way, as your blue-sky day in the mid-40s demonstrated. Hold those reminders close, especially once the gray and cold return. Blessings!
I love the way you weave in varied celebrations and practices. In everything from children's literature to religion, I find many similar practices and beliefs in almost every culture, just named differently.
I think that's the beauty of humanity: we seem so different, but at heart and spirit, we are so similar. We generally want the same things, beginning with our desire to be connected to this earth and each other, to be safe and happy, and to make meaning from the universe. It's no wonder that we invent similar rituals and myths!
Very affecting, Susan. That little heart of moss is an appropriate symbol of the coming spring and of the compassion we must extend to all living things. My sense of spring is all mixef up in the US Northeast—too cool for me (a Panamanian) to walk for any length of time out of doors (a measly 40 degrees you’ll laugh). So I got my touch of spring at the food market buying clusters of beets, a beautiful mango, viewing gorgeous dragon and passion fruit—all of course imported at this time of year. But the bounty and beauty of this earth still a marvel. An announcement if coming spring is that at 5:15 it is still somewhat light outside. Two weeks ago only it was dark at 4:45. I’m grateful for the Earth—the dark, the light, our home.
Oh, I love that word-picture of you finding spring at the food market, with the beets, mango, and dragon and passion fruit! That must have been a balm to your spirits. I understand about spring in the northern latitudes--it's a long way from the tropics with their very different rhythms to the seasons. My Scots gran used to say that after several decades of retirement in Florida, her blood thinned, and even 50 degrees F felt cold. I'm glad you have the food market and the lengthening days to bring you comfort and delight. <3
Hmmmm, maybe that heart-shaped mossy clump was a kiss from the universe that I wrote about last week? Why? Because you were open, aware, enjoying all your senses, and was rewarded for it. Most people would have never seen it because they were too busy scrolling on their phone.
It must have been! And yes, I saw the moss because I was paying attention to the community of the land around me. When I walk, I am engaged in the land, not my phone! And whenever I lead walks, I ask others to put away their phones and be present to what is around them in the real world. :)
Such a beautiful piece, Susan. There's a part of my genes that is Celtic, and I felt them thrumming as I read it. And then your encounter with that amazing mossy heart -- well, it is a message to take to heart. Love messages come at us from many different places/realms. Proof positive of spirituality.
Thanks, Liz! I think that our ability to notice signs like that mossy heart is also proof of spirituality. We just forget to look in our rush through life. I'm working learning to slow down and be present, and gifts like that heart are my reward. <3
Amen, Susan. Thank you for this, there's always such a wealth of information in your writing. I sometimes feel as though moss is vibrating, it's the most inviting thing, so wonderful to see a heart moss!
Thank you, Chloe! Moss is vibrating--every clump of living moss is like an old-growth forest to the microscopic beings who inhabit that forest in miniature. So what you feel/intuit is the vibrations of all of the tiny lives within the moss, including the plump like tardigrades, water bears, famous for coming alive after being completely dehydrated (and for going into space on one of the recent ISS missions). If you want to learn more, find a copy of Robin Wall Kimmerer's first book, Gathering Moss, a wonderful weaving of science and native knowledge with a huge dose of wonder. Blessings!
I look forward to more Celtic posts. There was a brief time period when a Celtic form of Christianity flourished and paid more attention to nature. We lost so much when the Roman Church forced it out of existence. There are a few people working to recover this connection, like J. Philip Newell from the Ioan Community. Religion started imbedded in nature and needs to return.
I absolutely agree, Todd. Christianity has an alienation-from-nature problem, to put it into contemporary terms. Reading J. Philip Newell's The Book of Creation: An Introduction to Celtic Spirituality gave me a direction for my Year of Spiritual Thinking project. (This post has more about what I learned from his writing: https://practicingterraphilia.substack.com/p/a-year-of-spiritual-thinking-14-month ) I found his survey of early Celtic Christian thought fascinating, and he laid out very clearly when the split from nature-based spirituality happened. Newell's work sent me to looking deeper at pre-Christian Celtic spirituality, which of course is more oral tradition than written, but reading John O'Donohue's Anam Cara is giving me so glimpses and ideas.
Fascinating- thank you.
Here in South Dakota it is a strange year indeed, confusing us all. But we look for the pasque flower to poke its head up and out - our state flower, in fact.
I think of Imbolc and the cross-quarter festivals as ways to keep us connected and give us inspiration from the cycle of the seasons.
Climate change is throwing a lot of what we think of as "normal" weather into confusion. I hope your pasque flowers persist in blooming as a sign of spring even if winter hasn't seemed like winter this year.
The heart made of moss was beautiful. It reminded me of Robin Wall Kimmerer's first book, the one about moss. This morning's fog turned the the mosses in my lawn into almost neon green as the last of the snow continues to melt under unseasaonably warm temperatures for this time of year. The maple trees are confused as some tried to bud in a warm spell in December and elders warn it may not be a year to tap them for syrup as drought sets in. Is winter broken? Or is this a break in the season? Looking for signs, spiritual and otherwise. Imbolc!
Gathering Moss was the first book of Robin's that I read, and I love it still!
Winter isn't broken, but it's definitely changing, especially in the northern Midwest where you live, and in the Northeast. Here I'm the Southwest, we're having an El Niño winter, which means lots of moisture, but not as much cold. I hope you get more snow and cold soon.
Here in Western Michigan it was in the mid40s with a beautiful blue sky. False Spring, UT it gives hope when the grey winter days return. And they will. So I celebrate the preview of what will come in a couple of months as I read seed catalogs.
Seed catalogs are wonderful Imbolc reading! They remind us that spring really is on its way, as your blue-sky day in the mid-40s demonstrated. Hold those reminders close, especially once the gray and cold return. Blessings!
I love the way you weave in varied celebrations and practices. In everything from children's literature to religion, I find many similar practices and beliefs in almost every culture, just named differently.
I think that's the beauty of humanity: we seem so different, but at heart and spirit, we are so similar. We generally want the same things, beginning with our desire to be connected to this earth and each other, to be safe and happy, and to make meaning from the universe. It's no wonder that we invent similar rituals and myths!
Very affecting, Susan. That little heart of moss is an appropriate symbol of the coming spring and of the compassion we must extend to all living things. My sense of spring is all mixef up in the US Northeast—too cool for me (a Panamanian) to walk for any length of time out of doors (a measly 40 degrees you’ll laugh). So I got my touch of spring at the food market buying clusters of beets, a beautiful mango, viewing gorgeous dragon and passion fruit—all of course imported at this time of year. But the bounty and beauty of this earth still a marvel. An announcement if coming spring is that at 5:15 it is still somewhat light outside. Two weeks ago only it was dark at 4:45. I’m grateful for the Earth—the dark, the light, our home.
Oh, I love that word-picture of you finding spring at the food market, with the beets, mango, and dragon and passion fruit! That must have been a balm to your spirits. I understand about spring in the northern latitudes--it's a long way from the tropics with their very different rhythms to the seasons. My Scots gran used to say that after several decades of retirement in Florida, her blood thinned, and even 50 degrees F felt cold. I'm glad you have the food market and the lengthening days to bring you comfort and delight. <3
Hmmmm, maybe that heart-shaped mossy clump was a kiss from the universe that I wrote about last week? Why? Because you were open, aware, enjoying all your senses, and was rewarded for it. Most people would have never seen it because they were too busy scrolling on their phone.
It must have been! And yes, I saw the moss because I was paying attention to the community of the land around me. When I walk, I am engaged in the land, not my phone! And whenever I lead walks, I ask others to put away their phones and be present to what is around them in the real world. :)
I love your way of looking at the world. And your Heart Moss. Much appreciation, from another person who creaks on standing.
Ah, the creaking of our bodies! But they still get us around, which is the point. :) Thank you!
Such a beautiful piece, Susan. There's a part of my genes that is Celtic, and I felt them thrumming as I read it. And then your encounter with that amazing mossy heart -- well, it is a message to take to heart. Love messages come at us from many different places/realms. Proof positive of spirituality.
Thanks, Liz! I think that our ability to notice signs like that mossy heart is also proof of spirituality. We just forget to look in our rush through life. I'm working learning to slow down and be present, and gifts like that heart are my reward. <3
Amen, Susan. Thank you for this, there's always such a wealth of information in your writing. I sometimes feel as though moss is vibrating, it's the most inviting thing, so wonderful to see a heart moss!
Thank you, Chloe! Moss is vibrating--every clump of living moss is like an old-growth forest to the microscopic beings who inhabit that forest in miniature. So what you feel/intuit is the vibrations of all of the tiny lives within the moss, including the plump like tardigrades, water bears, famous for coming alive after being completely dehydrated (and for going into space on one of the recent ISS missions). If you want to learn more, find a copy of Robin Wall Kimmerer's first book, Gathering Moss, a wonderful weaving of science and native knowledge with a huge dose of wonder. Blessings!
I look forward to more Celtic posts. There was a brief time period when a Celtic form of Christianity flourished and paid more attention to nature. We lost so much when the Roman Church forced it out of existence. There are a few people working to recover this connection, like J. Philip Newell from the Ioan Community. Religion started imbedded in nature and needs to return.
I absolutely agree, Todd. Christianity has an alienation-from-nature problem, to put it into contemporary terms. Reading J. Philip Newell's The Book of Creation: An Introduction to Celtic Spirituality gave me a direction for my Year of Spiritual Thinking project. (This post has more about what I learned from his writing: https://practicingterraphilia.substack.com/p/a-year-of-spiritual-thinking-14-month ) I found his survey of early Celtic Christian thought fascinating, and he laid out very clearly when the split from nature-based spirituality happened. Newell's work sent me to looking deeper at pre-Christian Celtic spirituality, which of course is more oral tradition than written, but reading John O'Donohue's Anam Cara is giving me so glimpses and ideas.