MIDTSOMMERSTATUS - fem spørsmål på halvveien
Midtsommer. Årets lengste dag kom og gikk. Her er fem spørsmål jeg har stilt meg selv i dag, for å gjøre opp en slags status. For å huske at jeg står akkurat her, akkurat nå - midt i sommeren, midt i året. For å ære alt det jeg allerede har lagt bak meg. Og for å lene meg nysgjerrig inn i alt det som kommer:
Midtsommer.
Årets lengste dag kom og gikk.
Herfra blir dagene kortere, nettene mørkere, og plutselig kommer høsten, som den alltid gjør, etter sommeren, som kommer etter våren, som kommer etter vinteren, og sånn dreier hjulet rundt, om og om igjen.
Her er fem spørsmål jeg har stilt meg selv i dag, for å gjøre opp en slags status. For å huske at jeg står akkurat her, akkurat nå - midt i sommeren, midt i året. For å ære alt det jeg allerede har lagt bak meg. Og for å lene meg nysgjerrig inn i alt det som kommer:
1. Hva har du skapt hittil i år?
2. Hva er du mest stolt av i livet ditt – akkurat nå?
3. Hva vil du gjerne ha mer av i halvåret som kommer?
4. Hvilke idéer romsterer inne i deg i øyebliket?
5. Hvilke ord beskriver best hvordan du vil at resten av året skal være?
Håper du også kan bruke dem!
xxx
hanne
The dance between life and death
Life and death are woven together, depending on each other and dancing cheek to cheek. In spring this becomes very visible. Everything brown and dry has to go, in order to create room for that which is green and wild and new.
Spring is on it's way.
In our tiny garden, the first flowers are showing their faces, breaking through the black soil that has protected them all winter. Eranthis, Snowdrop and Christmas Rose are already here - and there are green buds on almost every tree now. Things are happening fast. When the sun is up, it's warm enough outside to have lunch in the greenhouse. Each day comes with the return of more birds.
And in the middle of all this new life, there is death.
Old leaves are still covering most of the flowerbeds. The lavender needs a serious haircut. And it's the time for cutting dead branches off the apple tree and the ivy. Life and death are woven together, depending on each other and dancing cheek to cheek. In spring this becomes very visible. Everything brown and dry has to go, in order to create room for that which is green and wild and new.
This theme of life and death is not only playing out in the garden, it is also happening inside of us. In the darkness of winter, we have grown and changed and something within us is ready to die. Spring invites us to let go of the old and give birth to new versions of ourselves, new chapters, new dreams.
The moon is full today.
And full moon journal writing has become one of my most cherished rituals.
Tonight I will be exploring these two questions in my journal:
What in my life is ready to die?
What am I giving birth to this spring?
I invite you to do the same!
