A small patch of purple in a sea of dry brown leaves. I stop short. A smile crawls across my lips as this small symbol of spring registers in my brain. Crocuses? Who cares what kind of buds these are. They are here! They pushed through the ground cover from six months ago, and I acknowledge their presence with a wide grin.
My mad dash down the path to a yoga class at the Lake House has been pleasantly interrupted. I notice the yellow centers and delicate leaves that drink in the sunshine. I take a breath, glance at the lake, and smile even more—the ice is almost gone. Being on time for class doesn’t seem so important anymore. I look back at the flowers and meditate for a few precious breaths, smelling the freshness of the weather and the promises nature brings.
The crocuses remind me of lotuses, a juicier, plumper version of the purple stems before me. My meditation on the flowers bring thoughts of rebirth, renewal, and all that is cliché--but SO, SO welcome after a long, cold, snowy winter. The nearby picnic tables remind me that I will soon be able to eat lunch outside—and practice yoga on the deck!
Signs of spring are everywhere. At the ashram, the season holds deeper meaning for me—I experience renewal and rebirth each time I get on my yoga mat or mediation cushion. Familiar postures bring new sensitivities and explorations. Physical and mental practices never get old. Each asana is experienced like it’s the first time, with a history of familiarity that keeps me grounded. We know spring comes after winter, and the cycle of seasons connects deeply to my experience with yoga.
This state of wonder fuels my practice. It’s led me to the secrets that the ashram gives so willingly, no matter what the season.