Right now, I feel content to sink into abundance, to listen to the land, to be a witness. I am pregnant – just a touch into my second trimester – and my tendency is to be quiet, to listen. I am spending a lot of time in my ritual room, in a comfy chair with my feet propped up, looking out on my backyard.

We just moved into this house last October, so I am not yet familiar with all of the plants and animals that share space with me. I am finding columbine, mayapple, honeysuckle, and lily of the valley along with the hostas, tulips, and daffodils. Our bird feeder has been visited by cardinals, blackbirds, sparrows, finches, and blue jays, and I can hear baby birds crying out for food and attention. Chipmunks and squirrels abound, and we have one rabbit that is also a frequent visitor.

This spring feels full to bursting with activity and life and abundance. And, for once, I am in the sweet spot of being able to relax into it, to observe and notice and breathe. I don’t usually allow myself these luxuries.

I think I have entered into an apprenticeship with slowness without realizing it.