It’s nearing that time of year when the Jacaranda blooms in full fervour and intensity all across Bangalore. It’s one of the first signs, long before the hay fever and really warm days, that spring is upon us. It marks a slow coming to life after the snug days of winter, (even though we didn’t have much of a winter here this year – boohoo) a gentle blooming of life again, after a period of germination.
For some time now, as I have been seeking and feeling alignment within, I have also been observing patterns in nature. These age-old cycles that have been keeping rhythm of life for billions of years. Announcing periods, setting the pace, informing us in so many ways about when to slow down, when to keep pace, when to rest, when to retreat, when to conserve energy, when to step on it and ride it out.
I’ve been thinking about about natural rhythms and seasonal cycles, and how much it impacts the state of my body and mind. And I’ve been thinking about ways to observe closer, in order to find a deeper alignment. Because there is without a doubt, a benefit in this for me. Much of my work over the past few years has been in finding my own natural rhythm. A pace of life guided by an internal axis, rather than one set by the world around me that runs to a different beat.
I’m nowhere close to where I’d like to be as far as working in rhythm with natural cycles goes, but I am trying to make a deeper habit of tuning in and tuning around. Watching the moon cycle, noting my energy levels through the month, seeing what changes within me, as the seasons turn. When am I at my most energetic? And what can I do to maximise that, so that I can seek rest and retreat guilt-free at the times when I feel the lows?
I have been big into practicing staying with my pace and inner cues, and not going against the grain of late. And so, spring is about coming alive again. A liveliness that I have been feeling bubbling over all through January. But even so, I have felt the energy peter out in the last ten days or so.
It makes me wonder, how aware are we of the natural signs around us? Urging us all the time, gently and by example, that everything is cyclical. That there is no growth without descent. No spring without winter. No rainbow without rain. No full moon without new moon. No life without death.
Being in tune — whether it has been in taking to plants and dabbling in a bit of gardening, watching the moon and observing my mind and body through the cycle, running when I feel like it and lazing when I dont — has affirmed in many a way again and again, that growth has it’s own pace. It’s own milestones. It cannot be rushed by an externally kept schedule.
To ready yourself to bloom often requires long periods of inaction — whether you think of it as germination, autumnal period of your life, hibernation for self-care or whatever you will — it signals the necessary time of pause. Of stillness that is needed to first drop below. To peel. To shed. To let go and leave behind. In order to heal, nourish, nurture what lies beneath. And eventually to move on and about. To reach out. To evolve. To thrive.