As the Worm Moon waxes behind the clouds, I begin to hear the birds returning north, their calls a reminder of how silent it’s been all winter, and how much I’ve missed them. Soon, their communications will blend into a cacophony of background noise in the symphony of the woods. I’ll no longer hear them so distinctly as I do now, each species arriving from warmer places, their voices ringing clearly against the silence of clinging cold.
But these birds know something I cannot... not really.
They know the soil is thawing.
The worms beneath the still-melting snow are beginning to move, and the birds have come home to harvest.
Worms aren’t the sexiest creatures. None of us are rushing to post this to the 'gram. There are no myths about worms, no spirit animals carved into totems. But hear me when I say, in this season... worms are extraordinary. They're soil-makers. They aerate. They transform decay. They make new growth possible.
There were parts of me that died this winter.
Some I released easily.
Others hurt deeply.
But from that death — from decaying ideals, false truths, hollow loops — comes a compost of nourishing soil into which new beginnings can take root. I mourned the old me deeply and left much of her behind in frozen ground, but what amazes me about the human soul is that, like the earth, it renews.
Each season brings with it the potential to change — to root deeper, or to release seeds into the wind and shift direction.
To those who know me, I look exactly the same. I speak the same. I behave the way I always have. But inside, an awakening is underway. A clearing of debris. A gentle fluffing of soil. The stench of decay turns slowly toward the sweet smell of nutrients.
The relief is not complete, and it may never arrive as fully as the birds returning to the pines in summer... but I feel it trickling in. Slowly. Like frost leaving the ground one molecule of vapor at a time.
And I am so grateful.
There is much within you to turn over, beloveds. The work is holy, and can only be done in its own divine time.
So give yourself grace.
Give yourself patience.
Give yourself love.
Every single day of every single season. Because you deserve it.
And when you forget?
Come let your priestess bless a talisman to remind you that you are worthy of everything you desire — and capable of becoming all you have the potential to be.
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