Letting go, Letting in

Finally, after many long, cold, and very snowy months, spring is starting to emerge here in the North.  At first I welcome the insulated, interior space of winter, but as we trek through March, with April in sight, I can not wait to shed winter’s blanket and burst forth into spring. 

But spring is tentative at first. While there is an incredible joy at finding the first tulip leaves emerging on south facing slopes, I fear too much excitement, knowing that they could be covered by snow again at the whim of the weather.  Regardless, growth has begun and will assert itself over and over, until we are surrounded by the soft, lush, green of May and June.  

Bṛṁhaṇa (brum-ha-nah) is a Sanskrit term for the energy of growth and nourishment. We think of it as moving energy and awareness from the internal to the external.  Bṛṁhaṇa practices are focused on the inhale, they can be more athletic and energizing, and often work to open the space of the chest. Spring is undoubtedly a time where nourishment leads to growth, and growth leads to nourishment, but while walking today, I realized that I do not feel early Spring as an inhale.  Within my system, these days are one giant, long exhale. 

Feeling the wonderful warmth of the sun on my face lets me exhale the tension of the cold months out of my shoulders.  Seeing the snow melt, runnels of water starting a journey that begins in my front yard, and ends where the Mississippi meets the Gulf of Mexico, lets me exhale the constricted feeling of snow and ice impeding navigation around town.  Hearing the birds, so busy and loud, calling out to one another, calls me to exhale my own song to join them. 

I also exhale for the simple purpose of making space to breathe in what's to come.  I’ll be blessed by the petrichor of April’s first thunderstorm. I’ll bask in the herbaceous glory of the first mown grass. And in only a few, short months, I’ll breathe in the scent of crab apple, lilac, peony and rose.