Living in Harmony with Seasons
To me, there’s nothing more wonderful than living in harmony with the seasons, and being aware of them. The change of seasons reminds us that nothing lasts forever and that everything is perpetually in flux, everchanging. And that’s a good thing.
This impermanence gives meaning to our lives.
It reminds us to celebrate what is here, in the present moment, as it is.
Without rain, there would be no flowers.
Being in the present moment may sound like something inevitable, but unfortunately, it’s quite difficult for most of us, most of the time. Our minds are so eager to wander off into the future, or to keep lingering behind, somewhere in the past.
We’re often caught up with things that may or may not happen, or things that should have happened, or should not have happened, that we forget to be here now.
To be in the present moment is to do nothing else but breathe. Without trying to grasp the moment, without fear of losing it, and without anticipating what comes next.
This is as powerful as it is difficult. But, being the surprisingly inventive species that we are, we’ve found ways to make it easier. And, sometimes, much more fun!
My name might have revealed to you that I have Swedish ancestors. This is why I’d like to take this opportunity to shed some light on the celebration of Midsommar. This originally was a Pagan ritual, which later was adopted by Christianity and got cloaked in a bit of a brittle story about one Saint John the Baptist.
In reality, it has always been a feast of fertility. It’s a celebration in honour of light and being immersed in the present moment. In Sweden, we gather around a maypole, although no one seems be sure of its meaning. Some scholars classify maypoles as symbols of the world axis (axis mundi), while others say it symbolizes fertility in the shape of a phallus.
Another theory says that they’re a remnant of Norse paganism, where they believed that the universe was a tree, named Yggdrasil. I believe that worshipping trees is always a good thing.
We sing and dance in large circles around the maypole, and everyone can join. Old and young people all dance together in the neverending sunlight, and children jump around like frogs on the song Små grodorna (The little frogs).
There are dinners that last until the next morning and old or newfound lovers sneak off into a field of flowers to make love and drink schnapps.
people open up toward the light. in that sense, we’re just like flowers.
What I often hear from people, a few weeks after a psychedelic ceremony, is that it’s much easier for them to be in the present moment. To be aware of the tiny miracles that surround them. To feel the grass beneath their feet. To savour the scent of morning dew. To listen to what their children have to say. And to be there for them with undivided attention.
We’re all like flowers, briefly here, for an instant, a moment of beauty.
Let us live in the light of loving awareness.