Spring is coming. Can you feel it? I know. You're still up to your armpits in snow and the roads are covered in ice. But take a closer look. That snow is getting sloppy by late morning and is crusted with ice when the sun rises in the morning. The roads are icy because it's warming up, tempting the snow into a mid-day melt.
Yes, late winter is wet, messy, and full of the promise of what is to come.
And so I issue you the Spring Solstice Challenge: Get Outside Together. Everyday. (Yes, even for me this one can be a stretch some days. Here in Wisconsin February and March are gray, damp and can chill you through faster than January's bitter cold.)
A simple rhythm of outdoor time can bring us into a space of presence to observe this transition – day after day. This can bring this doorway between seasons to life. So give it a try. Bundle up and go outside together. Every single day.
The simpliest incarnation if this is a family walk, perhaps before dinner while the meal is in the oven or our favorite, a "bedtime walk" between dinner and bedtime. My kids even put on their jammies before we go so they are ready to tuck in when we return to our dark house at the end of our walk. Or perhaps you are home with your children during the day and can make time earlier, before a nap or after lunch.
Starting a new habit is often uncomfortable. We resist the new rhythm. At least I do. Change is uncomfortable. But if you persevere a magical thing happens. We fall in love with the ritual.
Start slowly, perhaps with quick walk around the block. Take your dog, bring a notebook, grab your camera. What every speaks to your heart can become a part of this journey, like our daily Gnome Walks of last fall. Hold hands, sing songs, or keep silence. Find your rhythm.
For children taking the same route each day can bring a safe comfort and predictability. To observe the same puddle that transitions from slush to ice to water to dry mud reveals something about the world, as does watching a snow bank become grass and earth become buds become flowers.
Will you join me? Will I meet you along my route as I walk with my kids each day, physically or energetically? I'd love to have you join us.