15 – 17 | The weeks that showed me the violence of spring

I’ve heard it said that the violence of spring is a better way to describe the season of waking + blooming + growing. That it is a process that is hard and difficult and, well, violent. I suppose that is actually right. A seed is planted in the soil, only to wait there in the dark. And, then, when the timing is right, is literally breaks open. Cracking, bursting, losing its shell, letting go of what it was, surrendering to the unknown process of being reborn as something totally different, but still with its original essence. Right now in life, I find myself identifying more than ever with this broken, cracked seed experiencing the violence of spring as it surrenders to a new life.

I keep thinking that I am going to get back to blogging once a week, but life keeps coming at me. And I am starting to realize that some kind of giant shift in energy came into my life when the pandemic started back in 2020. What that shift is, I’m not really sure. But, it has been intense and tough. It has also been one lesson after another in trust, flow, patience, and presence. Somehow I feel like I had a really long age of innocence, only to now be breaking + cracking + growing into a much deeper, more mature, hopefully more wise way of living life. Is this the violence of spring that I am experiencing?

The past 3 weeks have been nothing but challenging. Difficult. Exhausting. Tough. And, yet, there has also been the hope of spring, the beauty of slow living, the inspiration of others, and my commitment to spiritual routines to keep me grounded and anchored to the beauty can always be found. If nothing else, I am experiencing growth. But, it is painful, life-changing, heartbreaking growth.

Still, though it hurts, I feel that the violence of spring is a truer understanding of shifting seasons, of moving from the silent slumber of winter, through the violence and pain and growth and breaking forth of spring, into the blissful, lush season of summer’s warmth and light.

With that, I want to share a bit of what this violence of spring has looked like for me over the past 3 weeks. It’s a mix of all things… I suppose as it should be as the seasons fight + shift + slowly change.

week 15: Holy Week. Spring Break. Slow vibes at work. The return of sunsets on the balcony. Nature’s first blooms. New vintage china deliveries. Thoughts of surrender, descent, the waning moon. The downward path of Holy Week. The rhythms of the earth. the cycles of life. The violence of spring.

Zola the cat.

On Maundy Thursday of Holy Week, just as I came home to start my 4 day holiday weekend, we realized that Zola was not feeling well. Long story short, we had a very long + emotional evening trying to comfort her and decide what was best. Zola was a very old cat, and she was doing worse as the night progressed. After a video chat with a vet after midnight, we decided that it was best to take her to a vet to put her to sleep. So, at 2 am om Good Friday, our sweetest Zola died with us holding and rubbing and talking with her. Our life incredibly empty now that our little girl of 13 years is no longer with us. And, once again, we are devastated.

Week 16: Trying to adjust to life without Zola. Going through the motions. Receiving life-changing Swedish news. Desperately relying on nature to sooth my soul.

Stockholm: End of week 16

At the end of the week, we decided to leave town for the day and head up for a day in search of inspiration and positive vibes in Stockholm. It was a gorgeous day. Not that warm, but springy feeling anyway. We went to a museum, ate yummy food, had coffee + beer, walked a bunch, and celebrated spring by visiting the famous cherry trees in bloom in central Stockholm.

Week 17: Still trying to adjust. Leaning on nature to remind me of her cycles + rhythms. Feeling grateful and inspired at work. Support my parents as they move out of their house as best I can from Sweden. Keeping it slow. Celebrating the end of April by finalizing our balcony vibes + filling it with plants and greenery. Excitedly waiting for my niece to be born this weekend.

These past 3 weeks I have definitely moved from being a safely planted seed, to having my shell cracked, to deepening my roots, and finally breaking forth through the earth. I’ve felt the wild weather of spring, shifting from cold to warm to windy to rainy to snowy to warm all in one day. However, I think that right now, I am finally seeing the cracks of light that new buds see just as they really start to grow + bloom. I feel the sun more + more. Warming my skin. Coaxing me out. Oh, how I hope that the violence of spring is subsiding and that I am moving into a thriving, growing, beautiful season of lush, green, flowery growth.

And, yet, even though the violence of spring is difficult, I don’t want to miss it. I can’t miss it. It is a part of the cycle of life, the rhythm of the year. And the fullness of life is found in embracing it all. Living, dying, waxing, waning, grief, love, breaking, rooting, growing, rising, blooming.

Happy wild, violent, beautiful spring, loves.

liz. xoxo.