‘Molting’ from DEVOTED CONTEMPLATION is a monthly list of delights, wins, and lessons learned over the past ~30 days––celebrating the natural falling out that occurs as we make space for new growth. This was created in an effort to focus on 1) how many moments of joy we can choose to cherish, 2) how far we have come instead of how far we have to go, and 3) what we can let go of.
Happy spring, my loves. Being in May feels like spring is finally in full swing and winter is long gone (I barely remember her)––though it is always a tough transition for me to go from the solitary, peaceful death and stillness of winter to the loud, vibrant LIFE of spring. There is always some discomfort that comes up for me at the stark change, but because I let myself feel it fully, I now am gently dancing into the new, fresh energy of this spirited season. I am a seedling acknowledging her growing pains after months germinating in the quiet, dark soil. After being drawn upwards, not knowing why but trusting this soul guidance, I have peeped out into the sun. It blinded my eyes at first but now I feel its warmth. Oh, the magic of spring! xo
delighting in:
Oh, to be a woman! Realizing we get to experience more than triple the seasons that men do––4 per year on earth and 4 per month in our body, coming out to a total of 13 winters, 13 springs, 13 summers, and 13 autumns every year. The lessons of life and death interwoven into our physical existence––it is so obvious! And SO powerful. (Whatever created us is an artist.) My cycle is back to normal after the eclipse ROCKED it and it felt so serendipitous that I got my bleed today: the day I was planning to post this month’s molting! I had hoped it would align and could feel my body genuinely needing a molting, and lo and behold! It must be the magic of spring. :)
DECELERATING. (From @peathefeary, wizard of life/energetics/creativity). I like that word so much better than “slowing down” because “decelerate” feels like a choice, a conscious change in gears. Maybe because I can also hear people say woah woah woah slow down and that feels condescending. I am decelerating because I’m coming up to some turns and if I go too fast then I’ll crash through some shit and we don’t need to put ourselves through that. So I’m taking the turns with ease and picking my new course and then choosing to speed tf up for the straightaways because I can and because speed at the point feels fucking exhilarating. I am having a blast “breaking the illusion of urgency,” as Pea says. NOTHING IS URGENT! KILL YOUR TIMELINES! You can choose to decelerate and then choose to accelerate when it makes sense.
*My dad getting ready to leave the house to run an errand* “Okay, let me get a tissue and a cookie or something.”
Making an asparagus ricotta tart on a Wednesday evening with Renaissance/medieval court music playing in the background and it tasting like the english countryside during spring. I danced around the kitchen island while it was in the oven, doing medieval court dances like a little lady of a shire flirting with the handsome son of the spice merchant, making eyes that say without saying, come hither, sire. I was pissing laughing at this scenario I stirred up and the beautiful ridiculousness of imagination. God, it feels good to be silly.
Having a monthly luteal break down about my future and what am I doing with my life and what even is life and slamming my hands on the ground in anger like a fucking silverback gorilla and then working out and sweating and suddenly everything becomes okay again.
Walking around the block after breakfast to aid digestion with my hands behind my back like a lil grandma. Only carrying my keys and my straw hat. Wearing sandals so I walk slower. Understanding deeply why old people do stuff like this. (We have so much to learn from our elders that we seem to forget about because of our Western culture that glorifies the young.)
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