#55
on gratitude
dear you,
it is spring, and i am alive!
a week ago, it was eid & the end of ramadhan—a time of peace, slowness, and gratitude, and it was also the equinox and nowruz, a time that inevitably brings a disposition of readiness for rebirth, transformation, and leaning forward.
the first week of spring has been beautiful, and has reminded me that i am loved on this earth in different ways.
seeing all the signs of spring: the first crocuses, the morning and evening birdsong, the light, the green moss on trees, the blossoms, people sitting on benches leisurely, the view from the train at blue hour, seeing people run on the little paths by the water that reflects the dusk blue sky, getting caught in the spontaneous rain showers that are impossible not to just let yourself get soaked in and where you can tilt your head up to the sky and feel unbelievably free and at peace, and the wet ground lit by warm light from street lamps, has been a reminder of how i have changed things for myself so that i may appreciate all of these moments, and more. the past two months have been non-stop, and joy has felt difficult to reach. noticing the new colours and textures of th season has been a practice of grounding for me this month when things have felt chaotic and restless.
i’ve been trying to do more of what scares me this year, despite the stakes or outcomes. it has brought up feelings of sadness when encountering how the right thing can be painful, but also feelings of peace with accepting this as it arises.
to be curious is to occupy a state of openness, and to be secure in the knowledge that your perception of the world will shift and change as you grow and experience, and consequently, you will too. it is a vulnerable state to acknowledge what you do not know, but i want to be truly curious about what i don’t understand so that i can learn.
“am i free? there is some thing still holding me. or am i holding it?”
clarice lispector, agua viva (trans. stefan tobler)
sitting in the train with the sun on my face, going past a field of horses under the bluest sky reminds me that i am loved in different ways, and i feel incredibly lucky and privileged for that. those glimpses where i am known and seen and understood are worth everything, and i am lucky to hold plenty of love for myself too, so that i can try to live instead of just surviving, and so that i don’t become a casualty of what has happened to me.
“i felt a calmness birds can bring to people; and, quietened, i sensed here the outlines of the oldest mysteries: the nature and extent of space, the fall of light from the heavens, the pooling of time in the present, as if it were water”
barry lopez, arctic dreams
i am grateful to keep going through lean moments and experience joy. i am grateful for early mornings and the city during the warmer months. i am grateful for sitting on a bench in the sun in the late afternoon reading, and getting distracted by watching people play chess. i am grateful for coming out of a building into a sun-drenched landscape. i am grateful for the view under a willow tree and sitting by the ducks lounging in the sun on a sunny morning.
“will the afterlife be harder / if i remember the people / i love, / or forget them? / either way, / please let me remember.
andrea gibson
some say nothing lasts forever, but the tenderness that has been shown to me is the reason i try every day.
what a privilege it is to observe with curiosity, walk under open skies, sit beneath trees, feel things deeply, grow through life, hold memories within, love without limits, and start again tomorrow.
this spring feels like a subtle stirring, a quiet shift in perception and energy. march has been the first break in the soil, inviting us in to experience its light and be grateful to make it here.
i hope that wherever you are, joy and ease are in your company this spring.
your seasonal newsletters are my favourite thing to see on substack i feel so uplifted and renewed i love ur musings angel