Rise Again: The Practice of Renewal and Rebirth

Rise Again 

Today, Kathleen and I walked into the backyard in the cool morning sun to cut a handful of the biggest sprays of lilac blooms we could grab from the garden. We diligently trimmed the stems and prepped the vase with ice water which supposedly helps preserve the blooms. From the moment we brought the flowers into the living room, the entire house has had a light fragrance of lilac; arguably one of the most sublime terpene profiles in all of nature. 

And with the pastel magic of Easter and Spring in full effect, the inevitable meditation on all of the symbolism of this moment of the year has me verklempt with blooms, bright green leaves and the big man going full resurrection mode. It’s time for a quick plunge into the balm of Easter and all of the fragrance of renewal and rebirth that is in the air. 

I know my garden here in Oregon becomes utterly dismal in the winter. All of the deciduous plants and trees are completely bare; the ground is cold and muddy and everything feels dark and lifeless. While this isn’t unique to Oregon, winter hits all northern climates with a very dark chapter.  The fact that seasonal affective disorder is associated with the winter is evidence that the nature of light and its affect on human consciousness is profound. We need the light; the sun is the One. And while there are many moments of the year when Mother Nature speaks with a clear and undeniable voice, it’s possible that the moment of the Spring surge is her most inspirational symphony of the year. The return of the light and the power of rebirth is on full display. 

I love Spring and Easter and the image of the resurrection of Christ. And while I don’t identify as Christian, I have always loved the concept of the resurrection. The Latin root of the word is “resurgere” which means “to rise again.” The key is AGAIN! Because life requires that we  develop the ability to rise again and again and again. The beauty of this image and its symbolism is that it applies to so many phases and so many aspects of our lives. Every day, every week, every year we are forced to rise again from a place of dormancy, of stuckness, of injury, of depression, or even from a profound moment of success. Every stage of life carries with it an implicit moment of finality that we have to confront and move past.  When we fail to meet the moment, that is when we feel the weight of immobility; when buoyancy eludes us and gravity sits heavy. Rise again! 

So here we are again with all of the feels of rebirth and renewal and I simply have to reach for a poem that I think captures all at once the sense of the mythical and the terrestrial.  Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese” is a gem. 

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Meditation: Eyes closed for a simple ten count—renewal and rebirth. Go deep with it into the nooks and crannies of your current life circumstance—your place in the family of things—and find one place, one area where you can rise again. I’ll do the same and I’ll meet you on the other side.