This year spring feels more like a miracle than I ever remember. This long year of on-and-off lockdowns, of missing people, performances, community and connection is giving way to an inkling of hope. We’re not out of the woods yet, of course, and there is much disparity around the world in terms of disease and vaccine rollout. I’m firmly situating myself in my privilege here! But nature reminds us every year at this time that there’s an opportunity for a reset, for renewal, for rebirth.
I’m reminding myself of where I was a year ago now–I was in a deep slump, overwhelmed with unknowns, planning for contingencies I didn’t understand (or want to understand), and I felt I had lost my voice and even, at times, my will to carry on. It was around this time that I had stopped singing altogether, had no desire or motivation to do so. And I discovered meditation (thank you, Anna!) and began to practice again. Interestingly, I have had a similar singing-practice hiatus over the last few weeks, but for different reasons. Maybe I have needed this time to reflect?
And now: I am beginning to sing in the shower again, sometimes even–when I dare!–on my daily outdoor walks. I’m thinking about writing songs (though I feel I have no skill), and am finding poetry everywhere in life, but most especially in nature. The trees are blooming (quite lavishly this year, I find–is it just me?), the birds are mating, singing their hearts out and building their nests.
I am feeling the miracle of possibility. The fresh green of new leaves reminds me that I am never too old, never too late, never not enough. The promise of rebirth is always present, if we are patient enough to look.