Am in the grip of Spring… Easter always seems like a sun-gilded celebration of Spring to me, have always felt the kind of pagan reverence with it and then an overlay of transcendent Christian ideas.
We practiced Seder dinner this past week, the first time I’d ever done it. The food is surprisingly to me very healthy–fruit and nut paste, greens, veggies, eggs, and we used beets instead of lamb or brisket. Smith tried a “no thank you helping” of beets. Went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, thought he was bleeding for a moment.
Crying a lot lately, and this weekend my menstrual cycle busted out, so I am abuzz with the symbolism of menses, cycles, rebirth, the egg, Jesus, all this stuff that’s about to be transformed, the jutting buds of jonquils in the yard that have been growing slowly ever since January studding into blossom about to be. My body was bloated and hurt all week from PMS, but now that the blood is flowing from it and I’ve had my good morning run and shower, I feel like it is cleaning itself. I feel like I was coated with caked mud, and now I am finding my skin.
Looking out the window at the gray grasping filigree of trees gilt silver by the frosty sun. Birds outside cheerful, like they know what’s up. On my run a bird kept telling me something about finances, and yesterday they were laughing all around me.
Remembering the importance of bringing healthy foods to places. Not too much cheese! Just a little. Tonight, a good friend’s birthday. Tomorrow, Easter. Strawberries and blueberries and grapes. They come from California and I prefer something local and organic, but what does one do for health? Just eat dried or frozen fruit? Apples all winter? Be bored?
Wishing to bring fresh fruit to everyone, always, or at least healthy, tasty foods.
More poignant stuff–good symbolism for getting in touch with Mother Earth–Geraldine Green’s poem, “Shapeshifting.”