an ode of devotion
here in the northern hemisphere we are moving towards the spring equinox. i’m wiping the sleep of winter’s rest and the dreamy waters of pisces season from my eyes.
in figurative and literal ways, i’m approaching a sense of completion and new beginnings in one breath. the culmination of two lineages of work as coming to a pitch. one being a year’s worth of design, plans, dreaming of our house build, is moving out of the realm of thought into the physical world, with seeds planted almost two marchs ago breaking through the ground. our range is ordered, our master bathtub is sitting in our garage, + we are checking, double checking, triple checking, line by line our window order: the first big purchase of the project. spreadsheets are filled, permits are being opened and I can feel movement building, much like the soil warming in our garden beds, the ground is ready + fertile for new beginning’s.
“a moon of devotion + discernment. ”
despite the growing energy, my body is whispering to cling to these final moments of pisces season, for resting, calling back my energy from places it doesn’t belong anymore. these last few days before the official start of spring to rest, rejuvenate, dream, and wait a little longer for it all to begin. and so I'm heeding that call. putting some distance in between myself + social media. under this full moon in virgo, i’m embracing this time to cleanse, organize and prepare. to finish editing + refining, a time when the moon’s fullness can reflect to me what is no longer mine to carry. what remains hidden in the shadows?
in honoring my seasons and cycles, I meet myself, and upon reflection I can see more clearly. my second project has been another year and a half of work, dreaming, writing, failing, and trying again. working within the constraints of a global + pandemic and motherhood pulled in so many ways. this creation i’ve kept close to my chest. in this way, i’m approaching the release of what i’ve done into the hands of another, a culmination in its own way. i’m reflecting on all the ways i’ve come to befriend my humanity through this project. fears of not enough ness, perfectionism, an inner critic whose voice i’ve given too much weight to for so long, and constraints of being one human being. how do I embrace my wholeness and honor the work I've put in, despite only seeing what I lack? how can i celebrate how far i’ve come in even letting these parts of myself out? i used to cleave tightly to my words, my art, what i desired, treasured + dreamed of, afraid they’d be stolen away, and to be honest, they have. and part of my process (and years of therapy) has been to learn to protect myself. in this work + in these ways, it’s been a tightrope walk, a practice of balance, of the seen + the unseen. what i share with the world, with you that visit me in my sacred space + the pain and discomfort i experience putting myself out here. under this discerning moon, i put it all down to pick up only what is necessary for the journey ahead. simplify the load.
it is in stillness, in the quiet, in utter devotion to this moment, i’ve felt the freedom to let myself out. evening walks at the land, muck boots squelching in the mud, the birdsong echos across the hills, the earth is not yet awake. life rests in a state betwixt dreams + waking. the signs of spring are here as the sap is flowing, filling our collection, we boil it down, distill it down. the evening light illuminates the skeletons of queen anne’s lace from the season’s past. we are almost ready to being again, bringing ourselves out of winter hibernation back into the outside world. wait. it is in devotion to the present moment, to living + breathing, to the process of birthing + dying, the pause in between inhale + exhale we experience the embodiment of being. i’m pausing here on the equinox, equal day + equal night to embrace the wholeness of this moment. to honor what i’ve given + given up to stand here. without looking forward or looking back, i put down what’s too much to carry + i come home to myself.
xx, alyson