Paying attention to the cycle of the seasons means recognizing that we are not the axis around which the world turns.
What sweet relief that awareness brings.
We are a part of the earth’s motion, pulled by its momentum, tugged by the tide and the moon.
Circadian rhythms flow like forgotten rivers through your veins.
We wax and wane, we ebb and flow, though we have forgotten what that means, mostly.
If we allow ourselves to notice, we can learn to feel those pulls once more.
I don’t think paying attention to the natural world should be the preserve of environmentalists or scientists.
Yes, I’m interested in botany and ecology; I’m passionate about preserving the world and living sustainably within it.
But my connection with the seasons deepened when I stopped seeing it as a pageant laid on for me to take notes on, and started experiencing myself as a part of it.
Began to notice the way my own moods and anxieties and joys played like clouds across the landscape, the way my life bloomed and bore fruit and stilled and shrivelled, one after the other, ever-shifting.
As I learned more, I have grown convinced that in order to become seasoned: to mature, ripen, or condition, we must first learn what the seasons we are living in have to teach us.
The Seasoned Year is a space within which you can begin to do the same.
I’d love you to join me as this movement unfolds. To help you tap into the biggest picture of all: the landscape of the year, the wide horizon of each moment, the wisdom our cells are craving.
Madeleine Forbes, June 2016