The Spirit of Spring

By Elle Forest

Oftentimes we are asked to take part in things and our heart is just not in it. Sometimes we have to attend a birthday party or a wedding or a baby shower where we put on a happy face and pretend we are overjoyed in the celebration that is taking place, but inside we do not feel it. Inside we may be in a place of desolation, pain, frustration or hopelessness—many people are these days. Speaking from personal experience I feel that hopelessness, that fear that things won’t get better, the panic that my life will not sort out, the desperation that I will not find work to support my family or a home for us to live in by this summer. There is a sense of urgency that the universe will in fact not meet my needs and it creates desperation and anxiety that shakes me to my core.


Where is hope when you feel hopeless? Where does hope come from? I don’t know. It is like the flicker of a tiny candle in the dark, it just is. How it gets there, and where it comes from are questions left for greater minds than mine. But, I do know this—it comes. Somewhere when darkness descends upon us, when all feels lost and out of reach, a little flicker comes like the light in the dark, and given room—it grows.


Spring is that spirit of hope; that time after the dark and gloomy months, after the bitter cold and biting winds and raging storms. Spring does not come all at once in a rush of warmth and light and a burst of color. Spring comes a little at a time. It comes before we even see it. It comes before we have taken the time to notice. Even when the darkness of winter is still looming—spring is underfoot. Spring is hidden inside the bark of the trees preparing to become a bud that will bear fruit. Spring is the plant pushing up through the slowly warming soil to eventually break the ground and become a flower. Spring is the lamb within the womb growing strong enough to be born. Before we ever see it—spring is there. The spirit of spring is hope.


Just as each day the sun rises and sets and the cycles of the moon continue, the seasons are constantly moving and changing whether we see it or not. We are a part of spring and it is a part of us. Life, the universe, whatever you want to call it, is a part of us. We are not separate. We are just as much a part of spring and hope as spring and hope are a part of us. How it all works, I do not pretend to understand, but somehow it does and it keeps working ceaselessly—an infinite movement of change that we are a part of. So as we honor spring we honor the shift from dark to light, from despair to belief and from hopelessness to hope. Knowing that the fruit will come, the flower will bloom and the hope will manifest as it always has.