There’s a line between seasons. Perhaps it feels solid as a mountain. Perhaps gossamer as spider silk. Perhaps muddy, sticky, sharp, made treacherous by world events and climate change. How do you cross?
Spring begins today in the Northern hemisphere. Will I leap? Gingerly step in? Be pushed by Nature, by the world?
Leap Fly Jump with ease. Tiptoe Crawl Be pulled by bees. What gives you impetus? What serves as drag? Will all your parts cross as one Or some choose to lag?
There’s no wrong answer!
Blessed Equinox—may you/we find balance and impetus to change the world!