Seasons

The seasons are cyclical – that, we all know.  But I felt it for the first time yesterday, that a complete cycle, a complete year, is like a breath.  Nature inhales in the spring; its lungs inflate, oxygen is delivered into its bloodstream, and the blood is revitalized.  In the summer nature is at full capacity; its lungs are fully inflated, blood is fully oxygenated, and blood is at its strongest.  And then comes autumn, when nature exhales; its lungs are deflating, life and oxygen departing.  The leaves fly off the trees.  Finally, there’s winter, when nature is at its most lifeless stage; its lungs are empty, its blood drained, its body cold.  I can feel the same through my own breaths.  In the cold of the winter, it comforts me more to exhale.  In the heat of the summer, or even a hot bath, it comforts me most to hold a chest full of air, like it’s protecting me from the heat.  And in the spring, when the freshness of the season invigorates our lives, it feels natural, and unparalleled, to look up into the sky and inhale the world, to let it in, and renew my life.

Commentary (October 27, 2015): This is the power, motion, the life of spanda.

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