Living life from a Druid's perspective
Welcoming the Light at the Spring Equinox
The sun rises ever earlier, the days becoming longer. Soon the balance will tip, when the night gives way to the lengthening days. The spring equinox falls on March 20th this year, and after a very wet winter I am very much looking forward to it.
Watching the sun rise and set every day, honouring it with a short prayer and ritual gesture, I can attune myself to the cycles of the sun, of growing life and nourishing decay. I honour the cycles of the moon, with ritual and spontaneous prayer upon seeing Her face. Feeling these rhythms deep in my blood and bones, I also feel the shift as the equinox approaches. Similar to the autumn equinox, I feel like we are on the edge of a knife, ready to be tipped over into a new cycle.
Unlike the autumn equinox, where all seems hushed, teetering on the precipice with dignity and solemnity, the spring equinox is filled with the songs of birds urging us to simply open our wings and fly into the great unknown. Yet we must take that reaching towards the light as seriously as we take the descent into darkness, otherwise we could get burned. We must protect what we sow in the spring for it to reach fruition in the autumn.
I love all the seasons – they all hold their own magic. The season of Spring is one filled with hope and potential. The seeds that we have brought forth in the darkness of midwinter and kept close at Imbolc are nearing their time to be sown with great love and care. Seeds of intent, of honour or of the garden variety are all kept through the long winter, waiting for their moment.
I take inspiration from bulbed plants at this time of year, who stand strong in the darkness of the earth through the cold winter months, ready to bring forth life again from the underworld to the middle world where they can see the face of the sun and the moon, feel the wind and the rain. Maybe it’s my Dutch heritage, but daffodils, crocuses and tulips really sing to me at this time of year.
It is a time when we stretch out in the growing light, reaching for it like a new seedling. I take great comfort in the darkness of winter that allows me rest, and also great joy in reaching out towards the sunlight. The songs of my ancestors sing deep within my veins, in the land and in the inspiration brought by the changing seasons.
Utterly inspired by nature around me, I am ever thankful for the awen that flows through it endlessly. Working with the time and tides is a true blessing.
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