Seattle, WA, ©2021 Nicole Bratt
Dear friends,
Even at 46 years, I'm still somewhat stunned by the first sight of crocuses pushing up through the earth. While I was still in the hibernation of winter, spring quietly began.
In actuality, spring's been preparing every dark week of winter – fallow periods only look lifeless from the outside.
Looking around, here, too, are the first cheerful daffodils and the earliest blush of cherry blossoms. The birds, suddenly busier with song and nest building. The sun, a little more visible in the gray Pacific Northwest sky, plays peek-a-boo; the clouds, full of drama and random hail storms. Daylight stretches out like a caress, minute-by-minute, with each passing day. I, myself, feel a desire arising to play in the pots of dirt in my rooftop garden.
So here we are. Alive and together. At a strange anniversary of sorts.
We are the fortunate ones. Again turning toward another blooming season.
May we remember this as we continue to ride the waves of this still-challenging time.
However you've managed to make it through winter, whatever tools you used (or didn't), it was enough. Here you are.
Tenderly onward we go.
May you find ways to sprout renewed resilience and make time for the practices that bring you spaciousness, deep rest, meaning, and joy.
I've co-created some lovely offerings for you all in the coming months; I hope you might join me.
With love,
Nicole
