Barren, Brittle, Broken
March 5, 2023
To my eyes, the world feels barren. A few dead leaves still cling to branches. From a distance the tiny buds are imperceptible. The ground is brown, feeling almost dusty even after our rains. Fields have been plowed. Trees have fallen including the tree I was watching on the waters edge. I thought beaver would claim it, but it was the storm winds instead. If there is a time here that feels like being lost in a lifeless desert, this is it. Barren, brittle, broken.
With my ears that I hear the signs of new life now. Great horned owls hooting to each other in the dawn light, working to feed the young ones that are likely just hatching in their nest. Cardinal singing out his song from the top of a nearby tree as I open my garage door to leave for the lake. Flock after flock of geese cackling as they fly north overhead while I wait for the sun to rise. Coyote howling just as the sun peeks over the trees. Blue jays and robins, many of whom will soon head north, louder each day as their numbers swell.
With my body I feel the shift as well. The air and the ground have warmed. The humidity is rising along with the winds. The sun has moved north along the horizon and comes directly in my window in the afternoon registering as heat and the need to remove sweaters.
It is the darkness just before the dawn, the emptiness just before new life springs forth. Even as the rising sun creeps noticeably north along the horizon there is life waiting to unfold. The threshold between death and life is palpable now. Everyone talks about it in the fall and winter but I seem to feel now, at this time of year, when all of last year’s life seems to have disappeared.
I feel like I’ve also been stripped bare, waiting uneasily to see what comes next. Wanting to trust in the cycles of life and struggling to believe what I cannot see with my eyes. I feel myself being asked to grow, to believe that growth is within me and ready to come into the world. To walk in places where answers are not black-and-white or “right” and “wrong”. Presented with conflict, challenges and uncomfortable situations.
I feel myself being asked to rely on my ears, on listening and inner knowing and all the ways the universe can speak that are invisible and less concrete. I feel myself being asked to rely on my body, on how things feel as they twist my gut into knots or prickle up the back of my neck. I feel myself being asked to trust in the fuzzy gray of guidance rather than the black-and-white of knowledge and rules.
It’s uncomfortable, this threshold. I want to run back and crawl down into a den. I want to return to a prior “home”, a way of being I knew and felt comfortable with. I want life to be different than it is. I can no more fight with life as it is then the bird who needs to fly north. We both must go, whether we want to or not, trusting the growth inside us. Trusting we will find a way to survive and thrive in whatever life brings next.
Perhaps in a few weeks, I will feel that burst of life that we think of as spring. Perhaps when I start to see green grass and flowers on trees I will also see the growth inside of me springing forth. I hope so. For now, I simply walk in the unknown, uncomfortable place between what has been and what is unfolding. I suppose that is where we often walk, never really reaching a destination though I hope there are at least pauses along the way for rest.
Meanwhile, the sun rises, the stars shine and the winter ducks are still hanging around:
Whatever your week has in store for you and whatever you’re feeling in this season, may your path be smooth and all the resources of the universe align to support you. Take good care friends.
Substack emailed me today to tell me there are now more than 1000 of you here! That blows my mind. Thank you all for being here!
So comforting as I flounder through my own time of gray. I remember reading an article that explained how the body cannot differentiate between anxiety and anticipation. The feeling is the same. This has helped me try to look forward to new horizons …but I still need some practice! Just love your writing Karen. Thank you
This: "I feel myself being asked to trust in the fuzzy gray of guidance rather than the black-and-white of knowledge and rules." Beautiful!
Love the pics, what gorgeous nature and varied wildlife you have in your vicinity. And the post itself - a gentle, poetic contemplation on liminal spaces; on waiting, anticipating, and ultimately accepting.