Growing Slow

Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash

There’s an idea that in pagan spaces, the easter tradition has eggs to symbolise new life, and that the celebration is one of new life, of birth, of springtime. I may need to fact-check this, but I love the idea all the same. For many, and heck, for many years for me, the celebration of Easter has been one of grief and guilt and mostly, confusion. But for others, it is a celebration of opportunity, of growth, and of new life. Of birth. Of this new wonder that, often, comes from death.

I have always loved the way of the trees, of the forests — where there is death; a tree crashes to the ground or leaves fall and decay in a blanket across the floor; there is a coming of life.

New plants grow from the space, the nourishment, the dead provide. The old nourishes the new. The new is not possible without the death of the old.

We see this in the ecosystems of our natural world. And my god, I can see it in myself.

Every variation of myself has come from the deaths of old ways, old ideas, old places of being. But those old ways, they fell to the forest floor and gave me something to be nourished on as I found my way back into the light.

And we are all in the same natural cycle.

We are all able, if we are willing, to die little deaths, to undergo transformations and find ourselves growing taller, growing new branches, all to be the most authentic and beautiful versions of ourselves.

Remember, a tree does not have to think about how to grow.

It only needs to notice.

Notice the light, and bend towards it.

Notice the rain, and breathe it all in.

Notice the dead branches, and let them fall.

Let new things grow up from underneath them.

Dig your roots Dow deep into the beautiful things that make you feel alive, and revel in them. Find love — self love preferably — and sway in it like an Autumn breeze.

And of course, you must never forget — growth takes time.

Time. Time. Time.

Yes, the conditions need to be right but you need time, baby.

It’s dark on that forest floor, but —

Before you know it, you’re 10-feet tall and dancing in the sunlight. There’s so much growth beneath you, behind you, and all around you.

Happy Easter weekend, loves. May we find ways to celebrate the deaths and resurrections in ourselves. May we focus first and foremost on our own connection with ourselves. I think its the most important thing we’ll ever do.

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Jasmine Johnston

Jasmine Johnston

I write about love, being human, and deconstruction. Advocate for self-love & embodiment. Hype gal for creatives. @existingwithjasmine on the gram.