Spring Into Trust

This season can show us how to soften into trust

Photo by Aniket Bhattacharya on Unsplash

I held a lovely circle for 2 of my subscribers this week exploring the topic of inner wisdom. I am awash in gratitude. It’s been awhile since I held space in that way and I had forgotten how lovely it can feel to witness others on their journey and to be reminded that we are not alone.

During the call, I noticed over and over how I kept reminding participants to trust whatever was arising. After I was reflecting on how it felt to facilitate the call and realized that while I had a script I was reading off of this time, next time I could trust myself to hold the space without one.

That recurring theme - trust.

I spoke of trust before in my series on the cycle of belonging to ourselves, but it feels appropriate to revisit the topic. Spring, I think, feels a good time to walk with trust. As the world outside awakes from the depth of winter, it is a reminder that we can trust the cycle. Death and darkness do not have the last word. Light returns, life renews and so can we.

There is a softness required at this time of year. If we hold too fast to the sun and warmth we will feel more deeply the loss when the cold inevitably returns. It is a season of transition that requires us to allow whatever comes as we await the full return of light and warmth that summer brings. Trust, too, is a kind of softness. When we trust, we soften the grip we have on what “should” be and relax into what is. We must soften our boundaries in order to put our trust in others.

In meditation I've learned to trust the feelings and ideas that come up for me. Often meditations are led with visualization which is something that I've struggled with. I don’t see pictures in my mind's eye like many others do. Sometimes I see flashes of image, but more often I merely sense. I’ve learned to lean into my experience, to trust that while I don’t visualize, whatever I notice can be valuable and supportive to me.

In writing I’ve learned to trust the stories that pour through me, the scenes that unfold, and the meaning that they make in me or in others.

In life I’m learning to trust that my ideas and opinions matter. That there is authority within me not just outside of me. I'm learning to trust others with my vulnerability, leaning on them for support.

In all of this I’m learning that trust is a practice I need to remind myself to lean into, over and over.

May you lean into trust this spring knowing that, with each practice, the leaning gets easier.

Beth Kempton

's Spring Light writing experience is happening this week so I've been leaning more into poetry and prose. I need the practice of putting pen to paper (or fingertips to keyboard) and letting flow take over. I need the reminder that sometimes magic comes through.

Here's a poem related to trust that I wrote from one of Tuesday's exercises.

Spring came softly that year
A gentle growing of light at both ends of the day
Light kisses of rain after the slaps of winter deluge
The birds began to flit about, chattering in the trees, speaking of rebirth

We shaved the dog's coarse hair exposing the softness underneath
Heavy flannel sheets and weighty comforters were traded for soft cotton and lighter layers

I came softly as well
Testing my limbs after a winter of grief
Unsure of my ability.

Every step was soft and gentle
Wary of inciting another deluge of tears

I went just the same.
Stretching
Testing

Trusting

Spring returns and so will my joy

And here's a Note I shared with a poem from the warm up exercises to Spring Light.