I attended an event welcoming the spring solstice at 889 Yoga. The facilitator, Darren Hall, spoke a lot about spring; of growth, seeds, roots and such, and how he, although it is the common convention to make New Years resolutions, felt that spring was the true time to consider ways in which we would like to make changes in our lives. It makes a lot of sense. Spring is about re-birth, awakening from hibernation, buds, flowerings, melting – all of which are great adjectives surrounding ideas of change. So many metaphors…

We can’t change anyone except ourselves. Okay. Let’s take a giant leap of faith and believe whole-heartedly that we can’t change the various players in our lives, husband, children, siblings, and parents. Faith, because I think that even though we really get that change is inherent to each of us in our own way, in our own time, we do hold on to the belief that we can affect change in those we love. It’s how we’re wired. Time to take off the cape! Our only crusade is to make whatever changes we want in our own lives, for us.

It has taken me a long time to integrate this idea, and honestly I still struggle with it. I’ve written about this before, surrender and let it go. But, changing our selves? How? Why? It’s a pretty interesting conversation, and one in which we are required to ask and answer, and be the observers of our own patterns and demeanor.

Change is a process.

It makes me think of the story of the butterfly. The man sees a butterfly trying to emerge from its cocoon. With kindness he helps the butterfly by cutting open the cocoon to set it free. What the man didn’t understand was the cocoon and the struggle required of the butterfly to get through was nature’s way of moving the fluid from its body to the wings readying for flight. So, the creature emerged easily, but could not fly. The moral of this tale of course, is that sometimes struggles or obstacles are exactly what we need to become free and for our lives to take wing.

Soon, the landscape out my window will miraculously turn green, and it will happen so intrinsically that is almost silent. Like our kids when they grow – you wake them up one morning and their feet are at the end of the bed. This time of year is such a blessing and filled with possibility. The other night we were putting some beautiful cream roses in water, and my daughter was noticing the layers of the petals, and she observed that this might be a better metaphor than the onions. Instead of peeling off the skins of an onion to expose our inner core, why not peel back the petals of a rose, and day by day explore and express another piece of ourselves until we are in full bloom. That kind of gentle, flourishing change resonates with me.

** Photograph by Shayna Markowitz