February’s Blossoming Dreams of Love.

Again, I fall speechless and teary-eyed. Last night, it was that— my eyes welling up, shattering at the holiness of life lived for love. I could not sleep at once, visions ebbed and flowed, surrendered to with ease.

This February was sacred. Around here, the dance of spring commences— the haunting fragrance of fermented sunshine, the spiciness of fresh weeds and the lingering hours of sunlight. There was no way but to melt into the venerated beauty that I believed in back when it was cold, empty and so death-like.

It was the month to live my truth— a gentle presence squirming into my days. The softness of working by and for love, spending the morning hours in the garden, digging the ground, pulling out weeds and planting chamomiles, watching Venus disappear with the daylight.

I learned about the holiness of the earth, and it grounded me towards baby steps to take to radiate loving action for our world.

By the end of the month, my companion arrived to our garden with two baby trees; a blooming peach and a emerald-green pine. We spent the morning planting our very first trees in our lifetime. I cannot begin to describe how sacred it felt to be planting trees and adorning the world with life. The silence that washed upon us afterward— the holy silence of contribution, co-creation and living with earnest intentions. 

It was a miracle.

I don’t know how not to live a life that was meant for the hereafter. Selfless, unfinished work that lives beyond my little life. Work that ripples on endlessly. 

February taught me that, and I dance into March with unrequited softness for selfless, timeless service.

Now, I cry.