Ah. I think it's for real and true this time. The springtime seems here to stay, at least for a while. The streets of my Detroit neighborhood lined with flowering trees, overgrown, "empty" lots carpeted with dandelions and violets, and neighbors relishing the weather from their front porches.
A couple of weeks ago, nearly every day when we'd walk our dog, I'd look down to find a bright blue eggshell, thoroughly and triumphantly hatched and vacant. Each of those former inhabitants, having emerged into the world, is now, I imagine, occupying its next, larger home. It continues its still sightless and boisterously loud clamoring for nurture and nourishment in the nest -- a steady stream of worms and bugs deposited into its mouth each day.
Soon, each young fledgling robin will navigate yet another phase of growth -- jumping from the nest. Seeking food from the ground. Then weeks again later, with growing strength and persistent practice, finally flying.
I've found myself reflecting recently upon my own experiences of emergence -- of actively engaging with new growth and development in my practices and communities. Of leaning in to, daring myself to, withstand more visibility and presence. And to do so -- this time -- without the lure of an equal and opposite recoil or contraction inward. In this case, instead, granting myself the permission to pulse out and back. To breathe in to a new way of being.
Inhale... to expand and stretch into a broader, fuller version of myself.
Exhale... to settle back and down into the support of gravity.
Inhale... to stretch my membrane a bit further.
Exhale... to rest.
Inhale... I begin to recognize this new me.
Exhale... Ahhh.... I realize her imprint was in me all along...
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat....
Emergence, though exhilarating, can feel so tender, so vulnerable...
until and unless we remind ourselves that we can pause and rest into our concentric expanding worlds. That we can pulse out and back with all of the support that we need, and with all of the wisdom and intention our bodies possess.
I am beyond delighted to be able to share more new offerings to access that deep wisdom and support...AND to get do so in spaces accessible to all bodies!
I have been blessed to have moved my Ann Arbor practice to a new space -- the beautiful, serene, and fully accessible Dharma Space, run by Susan and Lou Weir. I'm so grateful that they have welcomed my practice, groups and clients in to their lovely, bright nest. ❤️
I.D. Round, blue-green ceramic pot filled with hatched, empty robin egg shells, resting in the grass in the bright sunshine. Photo by Stefanie Cohen; ceramic pot by Francesc Burgos; egg shells by mama robins.
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