Monday, January 2, 2017

Beginning Anew

Perhaps it would be easier if each new year began in spring – when dry stalks pulse again with green, and pregnant buds begin to burst; when the color of renewal is everywhere, and the light of each new day comes calling: “Greet me with full measure of your life force!” So much easier it is to think of new beginnings when all around us is rebirth! How can we not join in when it is so? But no, the year begins in the coldest depths of winter – when our days begin in darkness, and we muddle through their grayness clutching our collars with our hats pulled low, wishing for nothing other than to slumber long and late, with the mind of a cocooning being for whom life resides in the in between.

Nonetheless, we greet the year with noisy revelry and bluster. We rage against the dying of the light with plans for what we think should be. We huddle with those we love on the eve of a brand new year – reminiscing of what has been, so filled with hope for days to come. But then we wake up all alone with a cold wind whistling in our window frames and darkness creeping into every corner of our being. And we flog ourselves with self-recrimination when every seed and bulb and root out in the cold dark earth knows to wait until the time is right, lest its life force be spent in vain.






Ah, but then again, perhaps that means winter is the perfect time to begin anew. Perhaps we need the rest that we allow ourselves when finally we hunker down with the cold winds swirling overhead. Perhaps we must learn to abide in solitude and darkness before we can know what plans the Light might have in store for us. Perhaps in stillness is the genesis of every movement that will take us to the place we long to be. And perhaps from stillness arises wisdom that we might best know where to send our roots and when to send our life force up and out into the world.


Wishing all deep wisdom in this brand new year!



Image
Photo of hyacinth roots with subsequent manipulation by the author.


Copyright 2017 by Mark Robert Frank