What we endure for love
Early Spring Invocations
She sounds like a love song, delighted and divine, whispering her secret joys.
She looks dainty, but is far more than her small softness.
She is creation. And I can feel her blessings, though they sit quietly unhatched in the cradle of her devotion. She has made a home within the safety of a large bamboo tree, close to a grateful human midwife and the abundant earthly resources of succulent flowers and dandelions.
The hummingbird mama that I am already in awe of.
The companion that is graciously teaching me the medicine of early spring.
The evening after we met, I looked out the window and my body was greeted by the half lit moon. This special moon, the last of winter, sat right over the bamboo tree in the shape of her nest.
Two cradles growing light, two cradles soon to bloom.
Both opening to the stars above.
And I remembered that all of nature is always moving toward life, together.
I pictured the planets of our solar system traveling with our sun through space. The planets don’t just orbit the sun, the whole system is constantly spiraling forward, on a journey out into the expansive universe together as one family unit. All life moves with life. All of us becoming all at once. Together.
Last Wednesday morning I checked on my hummingbird companion. And said a prayer for her.
We were to have another wind storm in coastal San Diego. There was a wind advisory set for the whole day with potential gusts up to 50 mph.
As the wind started its howl, she stayed tight. She didn’t leave her nest for food all day, which is a long time for a hummingbird who typically needs to eat every 15 minutes. But her body and maternal instincts were prepared to do whatever she needed to do.
Hunkered down, she stayed in the nest for close to 24 hours to protect her eggs through the early spring storm. It was pretty brutal to watch. Mama and nest rocking with the tree limbs, which were looking more like fragile twigs thrashing back and forth. I knew mama was OK in these winds, hummingbirds are resilient in storms, but I was worried the branch might break or the nest would topple over.
The wind continued on through the night. And she stayed strong. I rooted for her and watched over her through the window, though I obviously couldn’t interfere.
The next morning I was relieved to sense the winds had calmed and mama and her nest were safe and sound as if nothing had happened. I sat in wonder of her and her nest’s resilience the rest of the day.
And meditated on these words: what we endure for love.
We all know how wild life can be. How many storms we’ve had to brace ourselves and our loved ones through. Both physical and metaphorical.
Many of which we may not have even believed we’d ever be able to endure.
But we do. We endure for love. We push through for love.
This isn’t to romanticize suffering or trauma or pain, but to honor the fierce and devotional power of love that is stronger than the storm. This love that lives within all of us, spiraling through our DNA, wise within every cell.
The love of the eagle who sat covered up to her head in snow to keep her eggs warm in a blizzard.
The love of the elephant who laid with her stillborn calf for 3 days in mourning.
The love of the oak trees that held each other’s roots under the earth to survive hurricane Katrina.
The love of the wolf who had the unbearable task of putting her injured pup down because it was the only thing she could do to care for her baby.
The love of families sacrificing whatever they need to, to be together and grow together. The love of communities providing care at all costs.
The love.
The love.
And I feel a hand pressed on my heart. Saying yes, your love is this deep. Your love is this deep.
And this deep love will get you through the storm. This deep love will carry you to a new spring. To a new cycle of celebrating the beauty that we are.
Let us sing love songs for the ancestors that endured for love.
Let us praise this new day and hold the babies close.
Let our hearts bloom as we outstretch our arms to the warmth of the sun.
Let us love, let us love, let us love.
Some resources of love for your early spring:
✨ This song, Darling by Beautiful Chorus
✨ + really the whole album, Hymns of Spirit
✨ This episode Thriving Where Planted with Rosemary Gladstar on For the Wild Podcast
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