Yesterday morning I walked outside in the gray, cold Portland to offer the cedar, juniper, and hawthorn that my girlfriend and I had gathered for the last month during the Holy Days. Since I now live in a two bedroom condo in the city of Portland…a city, albeit that is resplendent with nature, is still a city, I have to make do with where I put these offerings. And I don’t really live on ‘land’ these days…so I have to compromise my wild spirit that wishes to make fires and run around mostly naked.
So, I leave offerings below the red and black rose bush outside my kitchen door (yes the roses do blossom red and black on this particular bush, a wonderful expression of the Fire of the Goddess!) and create my own sacred space. For a while the yard maintenance guys used to remove these offerings…but I think they get it now…they let the juniper decay and leave the tobacco ties alone.
As I laid the evergreens along the earth, I noticed daffodils poking up out of the rich black soil!
My heart opened and I felt the rush of joy and wonder. Not just because now I see that spring is really coming, and I have to say, WINTER IS WELL WORTH IT, BECAUSE SPRING IS FU**ING AWESOME IN PORTLAND…no, not just that…but because I planted these bulbs with my daughter and her friend last spring.
Probably any old gardener, or even regular person who knows about plants and such, would offer to remind me, that yes, that is what daffodils do. They wait in the depths of the soil, embraced by the warm loving Earth through spring, summer and winter…they wait for their moment and then they burst on the scene, green and ready for the light! The wonderful scouts of Spring!
The reason I felt such an enormous rush of wonder was that when I had planted these bulbs last spring, the leaves and flowers had promptly died. I thought they never took. I thought the soil was not good for them. My daughter shook her head at me saying I’d never have the magical green thumb that my mother has.
So, I completely forgot about these daffodil bulbs…meanwhile they settled in for a long nap, waiting for their right time to reemerge. This reminds me of my life sometime. I plant things, I forget about them, and the rich nurturing soil of the Universe and my love of life and my joy fertilizes away until the moment to emerge comes…and it always comes!
And this is what joy is like to me, that moment, you catch your breath and realize there is nothing left to do but grow upwards toward the light, still nourished by the dark, warm earthy soil below. So I give thanks to the simple reminders of joy, in the daffodils and all this is coming up and out. As the awesome Nahko of Medicine for the People says… I look forward to the good things coming and hope you all do to. Bless.