Spring Equinox: A season of reckoning and release

There’s this idea that spring arrives with a sigh. Soft petals, birdsong, everything gently waking up.

But if you’ve really paid attention – in the garden, on the land, or within yourself – you’ll know the Spring Equinox isn’t always gentle.

It’s a shift. A reckoning. A firm nudge out of our winter shells, whether we feel ready or not.

Yes, spring brings beauty. But it’s not all blossoms and warm breezes. There’s also wild weather, mud, aching limbs, and that strange restlessness in the air. The tension of beginnings. The friction of change.

Beneath the surface, life is stirring. Roots push through soil, seeds split open, sap rises fast and furious. Growth isn’t tidy or still. It’s messy. Demanding. Relentless.

And that’s the medicine of this moment.

We’ve been in a season of holding on. Of slowing down. Maybe even of hiding a little. And now, nature is asking us to open up again. To risk new beginnings. To shed the layers that no longer serve.

The equinox brings balance, yes – equal light and dark – but it’s a fleeting balance. A moment on the edge of movement. Things are already shifting. And we’re being called to shift too.

I’ve been sitting with these questions:

• What am I still carrying that winter asked me to let go of?
• What’s aching to grow, even if the conditions aren’t quite perfect yet?
• Where am I being asked to move, stretch, or bloom – before I feel entirely ready?

It’s uncomfortable, sometimes. But healing often is. Growth, after all, takes effort. Ask any sprouting seed.

This is also the season of the strong-willed herbs. The ones that show up with purpose.

Nettle, waking the blood and nudging us out of sluggishness.
Cleavers, sprawling through hedgerows and stirring the lymph, urging us to clear and move on.
Dandelion, bold and bitter, reminding us that true cleansing comes with nourishment, not depletion.

These plants don’t second-guess themselves. They arrive, they take up space, they get on with the work.

And maybe that’s the invitation for us too.

To stop waiting for perfect timing. To stop clinging to the comfort of “almost ready.”
To meet the wildness of spring not with hesitation, but with a quiet, steady yes.

Because something is shifting. Not just out there in the soil and sky, but inside us too.

So maybe the real question isn’t: Am I ready for change?
But rather: Will I work with it… or against it?

Spring won’t wait. But it will meet you where you are.

So step in. Let the old stories compost. Let your roots push deeper. Let the light find you, messy and beautiful and real.

Something in you is stirring. Let it grow.

Kristine x