I came home from vacation to find forced hyacinths blooming in their vases in the basement.These harbingers of spring are emerging from the darkness.
Every year, the same bulb blooms again.
Even though it looks the same, it's actually different.
Perhaps this reminds us of the movie Groundhog Day. Each day different, yet always the same too.
On this day, halfway between winter solstice and spring equinox, what do we notice about our own response to sameness/difference?
Boredom? Anxiety? Security? Worry? Seeking escape?
How many repetitions does it take to let our heart flower?
Photo from livinggardens.com
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