Here in Belize, with its year-round heat and sunshine, I’ve actually become more sensitive to dips in temperature. My body feels the difference between eighty-five and ninety degrees, and a few days of seventy degree weather from a coastal cold front feels chilly. As much as I adore living in a place that is always warm, I remember how exciting it was in New York when spring finally sprung. Even though there isn’t a shift in weather here, I am tuning into the spring equinox and its influence on my own internal shift.
In New York, when the temperature finally lifted and the February snow began to melt, everything underneath was exposed. Everything, from flowers to dog shit. The big reveal was at once lovely and gross. This, too, is part of the equinox shift – shedding layers, releasing the old, and exposing the vulnerable, tender layers of what is growing from the seeds we planted at the winter solstice. I see this cycle reflected in my own process right now. It’s all a bit messy, with some parts blooming and others raggedy around the edges.
Even though it’s not pretty, I am okay with this. It is movement. It is progress. It is growth.