Here

This month was… punchy and tiring. It shimmered with fits and starts! For you, too?

Typical with the start of Spring, but this time I was more sensitive to the frenetic quality of life returning again, as I feel some kind of return to myself since giving birth. I’ve been relating with the cultivation of energy it takes for a seed to germinate. And with enticing lengthy days, I’m matching all this buzz with a lot of rest.

It’s also simply a scary time that we’re living in, so I strive to feel okay and safe “enough” while tuned into this reality, and give the rest of my attention to the details of my little life. For the first time, I gathered “moon water” from the potent Blood Moon in Virgo to use for later spells (maybe I am a person who gathers moon water now!). I wrapped up A bed, a dream, a brick, a workshop inspired by life generated from sleeping, dreaming, and illness with Rietveld and Sandberg students (a dynamic process and final installation at Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam!). And with the help of the Spring Equinox, Joan and I drew our breastfeeding journey to a close (Oef, my heart!).

So, I am moving carefully into this season and think of the latter half – emanating around May – as the “beginning” of the year.

I’m still cleaning and preparing my garden, literally and figuratively. As I emerge from Winter’s reflection, I’m discerning what to let go of as well as which intentions and creative projects I will grow through Summer and Autumn. This takes some time to parse out. While Winter is associated with dormancy and death, and Autumn might be the most direct in reminding us to allow death, Spring demonstrates that death is a creative force that life emerges from. No death, no soil. No soil, no life.

We struggle to remember that endings are an important part of the growth cycle. But, when we practice valuing this part of our lives as well (even if challenging or devastating), flourishing tends to follow.

Whether welcomed or not, what’s ending for you at this time? What are you letting go of?

If you feel up for it, please write back with your response. Can you name it and clarify its value and time in your life? If you haven’t already, how will you release it? Is there some way you can contribute a little bit of beauty to this ending of yours?

Now

• Anger, like grief, needs digestion too. Check out Thich Nhat Hanh’s short teaching on taking care of anger. If you feel like emotions are stacking within and you feel stuck, try these gentle liver-supporting qigong forms by Mimi Kuo Deemer.

• To better support my clients across death midwifery, end-of-life planning, contemplative care for living with death awareness, and grief companionship, I’ve created an online portal they can use while we work together. Session notes, practices, materials, all in one place. If you’re in need of support, consider a session bundle and benefit from this personalized space between our sessions!

• Read my recent essay on the exhibition and work of artist Katja Mater in No Longer Not Yet at FOMU in Antwerp. I don’t experience this often, but I am really proud of this text! (Likely an effect of being within Katja’s orbit)

Close

I know flowers to be funeral companions
they make poisons and venoms
and eat abandoned stone walls

I know flowers shine stronger
than the sun
their eclipse means the end of
times

but I love flowers for their treachery
their fragile bodies
grace my imagination’s avenues

without their presence
my mind would be an unmarked
grave.

– Etel Adnan, excerpt from The Spring Flowers Own, Post-Apollo Press, 1990

Courage,
Staci

PS. If you’re looking for a way to take action, please donate €5 or more to this urgent fundraiser (or via paypal: layalftouni) to help provide temporary relief for those displaced from the South of Lebanon, southern suburbs of Beirut, and Palestinian camps.