Welcome March

It was -16C when I got up yesterday morning—the first one in March. This morning, it’s-1C. I’m not sure if that qualifies as either a lion or lamb, but what it is to me is an exhale. We made it.

The worst of winter is behind us. We’ve come through the dark months and there is light at both ends of the day. It’s not yet spring, but this is the month we will welcome it. I’ve been wrestling the black dog for weeks and welcome March as a reset. Now, we begin again.

Last night I lay in a twilight space while vignettes from the past played in my mind like a movie. The catalog of memories one curates over a lifetime is there for the browsing when one gets older. (While, I don’t consider myself old, I’m certainly older. Okay, some days, I do think of myself as old.) That repository of experiences is a treasure chest, worth sifting through now and then to see if nuggets remain.

In a liminal space between sleep and wakefulness I visited houses I’ve lived in, remembering the woman I was in each of them. By this stage of life, we’ve been many. There was a wistfulness at some memories, a “thank god I’m not there anymore” at others, but mostly a sense of all of these women coming together as one. I am no longer them, but they are in me.

And so, March comes on the heels of all that came before. March 2026 will be unique because the events from months and years preceding it influence its unfolding—and there will be surprises. There are always surprises.

If we believe (and I do) in the Divine who created us and the earth and everything in it and that it’s all somehow linked, then it follows there is something we can learn from the cycle of seasons. There will be dark, and there will be light. Times of growth, and times of lying fallow. Seasons will cycle. Change is inevitable. Nothing lasts forever. Nourishing our (literal and metaphorical) soil is the surest way to an abundant harvest.

Welcome, March. We welcome the change you bring.