As I feel my system rise from the depths of the water, the underground darkness of the caves that drip with the wet, black night; the dark places of the deep ocean, where the creatures evolve their own light. Have you ever seen the ocean life from the deepest parts? They have bioluminescent light in their skin, or have grown their own lanterns as an imperative to see in the dark. There are monsters in the deep places that scare us, yet there is also the light of our own wisdom, buried in the DNA of our bones. When we sink back into these places of our deepest knowings, beyond the mind, and into the deepest yin of the body matrix we come to the knowing in our bones. The ancestral handovers from the relay of biological imperatives in utero. It’s also the embodiment of our own lived experience. The water element of winter calls us to these deep places and beckons us to rest. Come to the deep places, she summons. Apply your warriorship inside. Utilize your drive, your will, to sit back, to engage in trust, and to honor knowing. There will be time soon enough to drive forward and out again. For now, be still, she whispers. 

This isn’t so easy. We are summoned by the outside forces of work and culture to produce, work hard, and push ourselves at nauseum. I do believe in hard work and in authentic work. I do believe in summoning the strength and courage to keep going, one foot in front of the other. I have been working since I was 9 years old. I can’t imagine not supporting myself and not having a full time job. I’m grateful that I know how to do this. Yet, what about this way of the water? What about winter’s beckoning? For me to continue forward, to push, to have the vitality to keep showing up in the world and my work again and again, I need to rest, to go down and in. I trust this wisdom of the indigenous ancients. Every indigenous culture from every crevice of the planet talks about these seasonal rhythms in their own languages and unique poetry of their traditional medicinal systems. 

Here is what I have begun to understand about alchemy and inner work. We don’t have to go backward to some distant time to allow the wisdom of this medicine to come into our lives. We can allow space for it here, now. We can still meet our lives and responsibilities, while also honoring these seasonal rhythms and energetics. I have been holding this question for the last couple of winters: How can I go in and slow down, while moving at the same speed? How can I go in while still meeting my work out there? 

The alchemical process is so much about holding the tension of the opposites, putting the lid on the pot, giving it some heat, and seeing what emerges. I may not be able to pause my job and go live in a cabin in the woods for six months every winter, but I may be able to walk a little slower, really feel the bones in my feet connect with the ground, leave earlier so i’m not rushing to get ready or driving fast through the ice and snow. Not rushing is key for me. I may be able to lean back more while engaging in my work and play, be quieter, observe more. Say no to social engagements that don’t feel fulfilling or relevant, and stay in with my books, journals and cup of hot tea, which does. I may be able to limit my sons after school activities to one day a week instead of three. Then, in the bubbling up of spring, I can allow room for more activity, more movement as the movement of life beckons me forward. 

In this in between time now, where I live in Western New York State, I feel both the downbearing of winters cold, hard, darkness and also a lifting up, an ascending of yang qi as the roots and tendrils push their way upward through the surface of the cold, hard soil. The air smells different, like wet wood and pungent dirt. The light has changed. It is less bright as when the light hits the ice and snow and reflects off of it, and more warm and penetrating, like so many lazer beams focused on each plant, rooting for its growth. Come on! You can do it! I see you, I believe in your growth! Buds are pushing forth from the branches, soon to be bulging with life and then popping and blooming as summer approaches. 

I feel this within me, this drive up and out. My energy is shifting and coming back with the light. As the light returns, I return. My ideas are starting to take root and grow, forming into projects and action steps. I can speed up a little bit, now that it is safe to. Not too fast though! Pace yourself! I tend to injure myself in spring as I start expanding a little too quickly for my body to sustain. Slowly now, ease into the stretch, the expansion of the moving ligaments, tendons and connective tissues. Like the trees, moving out of their contracted, winter storing state, begin to expand and stretch up and out, my limbs mimic this dance. I pulled a rib out this morning as I tend to forget that this expansion needs to happen in stages. I’m like that daffodil that is reaching so hard for the sun, wanting to open too early. 

What I’m aware of now as I write this, while remaining tuned in to my body, is to keep my roots sunk deeply into the water system in the dark soil. To stay down and in, feeling the support of the water and minerals, the matrix of life, while also allowing my trunk to be tall and upright- to be in its own integrity and take up its own space. To stop making myself small for other people and to stand in my tallness. I’ve been crumpling my frame for years to make myself smaller. The wood element of Spring demands my assertion , my becoming and me taking up as much room as I need to for my largeness. Spring insists that I allow my creativity to flow like water as my vision and perception expands. 

The elements are other-than-human beings around and within us. They are alive and we can get to know them. We can also call upon them for support. As beings of Gaia, they can assist us in our daily lives as well as be major players in our inner work. Tuning in to your body by practicing inner sensing, or simply pausing, breathing deeply and feeling into your skin. This gives us access to our inner landscape and can begin a way of being in relationship to our bodies, our Selves, and these energetic and spiritual forces. When I breathe in and expand my lungs. When I tune into my lungs as organs with their own wisdom, they can tell me about how they are doing in there and perhaps what it needs. I can know the wisdom of my liver and get a sense of what it might need from me to be in health, relative to right now, this moment, this season, this environment. Each of us holds a unique embodiment, configuration and expression of the elements. This is powerful and empowering. We can notice how it is showing up inside as well as all around us.

One of my brilliant colleagues mentioned recently how she was seeing magnolias everywhere. It finally clicked in her that this was an ally that was showing up for her and she began relating with it in a different way. For her this translated into taking magnolia flower essence. Knowing the resonance of this within her and developing a relationship with it. That word keeps coming up, doesn’t it? Relationship. Being in relationship with these beings. For me, right now, in this early incarnation of Spring, it means gently stretching, honoring movement, recognizing when I’m stagnant and contracting (my jaw tightening is a dead giveaway), and gently moving this tightness with a salt bath, qigong, a walk with the trees in my neighborhood, the olfactory awakening of bergamot essential oil, and the words that need room to flow through me to the page. These are the movements that beckon me forth and are relevant for me and my authentic unfolding at this time, in this space, for now. I am open to the shifts and changes, to relating with these beings as my walk with life continues.