In some ways, we are always dying and being reborn. Every day, every breath, every chance encounter, is an opportunity to begin again. For example, in the sitting practice of shamatha (“calm abiding”, breath-based) Buddhist meditation, we are continually beginning again. We let go of our thoughts, our identities, our cherished stories and plans. And we choose, instead, to simply be. To be without the story, with just our bodies and our experience of “right now”.
Every spring, we are reborn, as well. The fire re-ignites within our souls, and we remember that we are ALIVE, and that we need to express this aliveness, or risk losing it. (After all, we are only alive in the sense that we that we feel and act from–thus continually re-newing–the breath of inspiration.)
And, at the beginning of each lunar cycle–that is, at the during the dark (new) moon period of each month–we experience a surrender of the old and a re-birth into new consciousness, as well. Never is this more true than during a solar eclipse–that is, a new moon which also passes over, and blocks, the light of the sun (if only for a moment).
Solar eclipses are like portals, or gateways, into a new and enhanced state of being. During such a period, we can receive new impressions, seize new opportunities, or re-potentiate an aspect of ourselves that has been lying dormant and forgotten. ￼
This past Friday, March 20th, we experienced a solar eclipse in the early morning hours. Astrologically, it was in the last degree of Pisces–and thus the last degree of the zodiac–indicating that we can draw on the wisdom of past year (the previous 359 degrees of the Sun’s journey) as we begin again. But, only if we are willing to surrender all of our old baggage, our worn-out stories, our old victim-and-failure-laden consciousness. Basically, we need to let go of the WEIGHT of the last accumulated year.
And so, here we are. It’s spring, and we’re beginning again. Maybe we had a hard year last year. (I know I did, in many ways.) Maybe we question our abilities, or our choices. Maybe we doubt our visions. Our faith is not yet strong. . .
. . . But, we are here. Alive, breathing. Beautiful, vibrant, and full of promise. We have something to offer. And we have a choice, in this moment–each moment–as to whether we will grow and evolve, or whither and hide.
It is spring. Embrace your life. Commit to your own becoming. Plant your feet, raise your head, open your heart and spread your arms open wide. Now, sing your song, the song of now. Only you can sing your being into existence. Only you know how.