Just in time. I mean it with all my heart. Spring is entering just in time. This has been such a long week. Making it to Friday and making it to Spring on the same day feels symbolic to me. I don’t know about you, but I am feeling a little disoriented. I’m losing my keys. I’m having trouble remembering what I was going to do next. It’s overwhelming. This is one of those times when the last thing I want to do is listen to the news, and at the very same time it feels so very important. Somehow listening to whatever is happening out there in the world feels like a lifeline to the greater community. I don’t want to float off, adrift. I want to stay tethered. And one way to stay tethered feels like keeping informed of what is happening out there in the world.
For Native Americans, spring is the season of the East. It is the time of dawning. What a great and kind gift. It feels like grace to welcome spring today, this time of dawn arriving. We’ve heard so much about the coming of the COVID-19 and this is the week it feels as though it has arrived for Atlanta. So many shifts. So many rearranging’s, so many reorganizing’s, so many adaptations and it feels like it has come. And today, so has spring.
From Sun Bear’s Book, The Medicine Wheel, we read that “The power of Wabun, of the East is the power of illumination and wisdom. The season of Wabun is the spring when the earth is awakening from the sleep of winter and the new life which has been preparing itself in the womb of the earth bursts forth.” He goes on to say, “…each dawn when the sun climbs above the horizon, it illuminates the landscape of whatever season it is. The sun causes all of the children of the earth to awaken; to get up to greet the day with its fresh promise. At the dawning, it is the time to take the knowledge of the spirit received in sleep and turn it outward, to guide your steps through the new day to come.”
As we continue on our Lenten journey, we are reminded today of welcoming this new season. May we be reminded at all the best times in these coming days of the gift of illumination. May we lean into the wisdom gained from winter’s time and tending and take with us into spring the best of those days. May we not forget the gift of waiting for the dawn’s coming. May we not forget the hope that blesses that waiting.
A birding friend once told me about the early singing that happens before light comes each morning. He told me that the birds sing because they are seeking one another. Just at first light, you can hear them. One song and then another and then another. Calling out. Our friend birds know the importance of not feeling alone. They remind us each morning in their song. Maybe this morning their song sounds something like, “Here comes the sun, here comes the spring. Just in time for all of us.”