The good weather and longer light have brought the entire neighborhood out. Except us. We are enjoying simply listening to it for the first time, tears welling up.

It occurs to me that actually, since the beginning of lockdown, I’ve ended up doing a lot more of what I want. Things I kept putting off because of being too “busy”.

The man in the moon is as clear as day. I ask my partner if they’ve ever seen him so clearly. They say no.

These are the moments I’ve been relishing. I don’t know if they have anything to do with awakening. I do know that they soften my heart and that it’s easier to get through a global pandemic when the heart is soft.

Over the years I’ve trained myself to engage with moments of stress, frustration or annoyance as teeming with potential. There’s a lot of energy there.

We talk about how now is the time to re-connect with the ancestors and heal old wounds.

This time it’s about simply bearing witness. When you’re as tired as I feel there is nothing more to do.

It’s been threatening to storm for hours, and just as we’re heading out the door, the sky opens up, literally raining down blessings.

I revel in that kind of unbridled disregard for the sacred that only children can get away with.

I imagine I’m giving the rain all my sadness and grief, fear and uncertainty. I imagine the rain taking it all and carrying it into the earth.

My relationship with the sky is a humbling barometer for my mental states.

I reconnect with the qualities of stillness and solidity beneath me. Even though this land feels disturbed, those qualities are also there.

Re-establishing our relationship to the land re-establishes our relationships to each other.

I head out the door and to my delight, he is exactly as I pictured him; a warm, bright smile, kind eyes, and an easy-going manner. It feels strange not to shake his hand so instead we work harder with our eyes.

I marvel at how much easier it’s been for me to trust emergence during lockdown. With everything I use to rely on for normalcy stripped away there is now room for new, exciting things to happen.

What we all wouldn’t do for a day out in a grassy field dancing together under a bright blue sky.

As I keep attending to the sensations something in me begins to soften. I connect with ground and space and slowly gain perspective. The thoughts and emotions quieten.

Since the world came to a screeching halt, it feels as though spring has sprung a thousand times. We keep seeing the same flowers bloom and fade, bloom and fade, like edelweiss, over and over.

Grief is at the top of the list. How to be with it. We gently explore the territory, that in finally inviting grief in, there can also be peace and relief. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.

Alternating between hot and cold gives our system what it needs so we can learn how to gently open and stay open, allowing life to simply flow through us.