Cycles of the Wheel
I've been thinking about cycles. Linear time is going from point A to point B. There's a certain satisfaction in the sense of a journey being taken, traveling always forward. Gazing ahead in anticipation of what's coming around the next bend in the road.
But I like the structure of repeating cycles. The wheel of time circling through the year.
The circadian rhythm of my body's internal shifting through a 24-hour period. Sleepiness, hunger, the adrenaline surge, the death hour, my rise and fall of energy.
The great revolving circle of seasons. Spring with its exploding torrent of life and sound and color. Summer's heavy, saturated lushness and steamy richness. The bittersweet days of autumn - a season that overflows with color at the same time as it begins to diminish. And finally, the clear, sharp focus of winter - an opportunity to see the bones of nature in all its intricacy.
The liturgical year of holy celebrations: the seasons of Advent, Christmas and Epiphany, and Lent, Easter and Pentecost.
Holidays and festivals that offer spaces for celebration throughout the year. Stemming from my childhood, I’m particularly fond of St. Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Halloween and Thanksgiving.
The waxing and waning cycles of the moon from fingernail to full.
The seasonal migrations of birds responding to their ancient internal calls to wing north and south.
I've accepted the fluctuating seasons of my creativity, the ebb and flow of my artistic energy and inspiration levels. And although I have little enthusiasm for the daily repetition of tasks, I see them as the sturdy anchors of the present moment. But the cycles of the great wheel. They form a scaffold upon which I arrange the actions, perceptions and responses of my daily life. They're the signposts, the memorial stones, the nest that shelters and gives meaning and purpose to my days, and therefore, my life.
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”