The Restless Hope of Spring
There is a particular kind of restlessness that arrives just before growth. A tension between who we are and what we can sense coming. Every spring, as Vermont softens from brown into green, I am reminded that our bodies know this feeling as well.
Every spring, I am stunned as the color green begins to seep back into the brown, “stick season” landscape of New England. I find myself startled when I look out the window and notice the first sprigs of new grass curiously stretching toward the promise of warmth from the sun. Here in Vermont, we are still weeks away from what I would truly consider warmth, and yet warmth and growth are coming. The anticipation fills my body with the restless energy of hope.
The sun begins to feel brighter, even as I continue to wrap myself in layers against the cold wind. My body wants to move, wants to return outdoors, and yet I still find myself guiding it with the patience of a parent watching their child discover the coordination needed to crawl.
This restlessness—the tension and excitement that comes with anticipating change or accomplishment—shows up in all of our lives, not just on the cusp of spring.
Periods of transition often live in the body before they make sense in the mind. We may notice increased restlessness, tension or a longing for movement as we stand in the space between what has been and what is still becoming.
Our bodies may become increasingly restless as we recognize internal or interpersonal changes that need to occur. We may feel antsy as we wait for an upcoming event or a desired outcome. We may notice tension rising in our bodies when something happens that does not quite fit the narrative our minds had expected, and suddenly we are faced with the ambiguity of the unexpected.
It takes practice to shift our body’s response from shock and overwhelm to curiosity. Just like the return of green in the spring, even familiar things can catch us off guard when we have been lulled into complacency.
So how do we turn from restlessness to growth? How can we explore growth when our bodies (and minds) are aching for warmth that has not yet arrived?
A guided and gentle exploration to help support your own exploration into how to turn restless energy into the possibility of growth and development:
Notice what colors inspire you. Try going for a walk outside, even if it is just around your front or back yard. Focus on the colors around you. Notice each one. See if certain colors make your heart rate rise just a touch, if you linger a little longer than usual in admiration, or if your eyes begin to soften.
Follow the subtle shift in your body with curiosity. As you notice a sensation arise, become curious about the texture of the color and the shape of what you see. See where your imagination takes you. What pleasant memories or ideas come to mind? What about this color, texture, or shape inspires you?
Bring the imagery into creation. Take this sensation to your art supplies. What can you find in your home that helps reconnect you to this feeling, color, or sense of possibility? Explore and play with materials from your recycling bin, traditional art supplies, or even nature itself to create something visual for yourself.
Return to your visual when stress arises. When life feels overwhelming or you notice your curiosity beginning to fade, come back to this image. Return to your color. Reconnect with the sensation of curiosity and growth.
It is through curiosity, play, and imagination that we grow and learn.
Where will your imagination take you today?
