Biophilic Beginnings

First of all, I owe those of you who wrote me testimonials a giant thank you. I have had a few new clients mention the good reviews as the tipping point for their interest. I couldn’t be more grateful and appreciative for your willingness to speak on my behalf.

I have a bit of spring fever this week and not the fun kind. Allergies laid me up and kept me from writing last week. I’m getting back into the swing of things but slowly. I managed to take a walk today which gave me a chance to appreciate the flowering trees and leaf buds which are at once cheering me and doing me in.

Spring is a complicated season.

Explosive activity in nature meets my not quite ready sinews and I find myself a bit achy, very stuffy and sore throaty and somewhat unprepared. I didn’t realize it, but years of urban living have made me less adaptive to seasonal changes and more reactive to climate change.

It is not a process that can be corrected overnight.

I think of myself as biophilic but I am functionally illiterate when faced with the most basic of natural phenomena. I watch neighbors with awe as they go about their seasonal ablutions whilst I maintain the monochrome of client sessions and studio work. I can sense that my rhythms should change, but honestly, I’m not quite sure how.

I say this because as much as I love animals, flowers, fresh vegetables and long days, that’s not the same as having skills. There are many important signs like the day the birds came, and the day the grass was suddenly green, and the day the trees had buds, and the day the sun felt warm and not just light. Eventually, I might know about soil and moisture, insects and local plants, and maybe even how to better maintain the secret garden I’ve been gifted.

For now, I follow my heart, take any and all advice, pay attention to LB’s moods and predilections, and take in the morning air as frequently as I can. Just now, LB whipped his head around to listen to an orchestra of birdsong. My neighbor is loading and starting his car, and the blue blocking light on this screen flicked off at sunrise.

I feel the beckoning of industry in my own beating heart.

I am hopeful that our hybrid schedules might be the beginnings of natural literacy for those of us still ensconced in the working world. Restoring our circadian rhythms will help restore our health individually and increase our investment in preserving our bright and beautiful earth collectively.

It is ok to be the last rose on the bush to blossom.