Moving with the Season: A Time to Stretch & Grow

 

Spring arrives not with urgency, but with invitation. It calls us outside, into the stirrings of warmth, the scent of new blossoms, the stretch of the body after a long winter’s rest. In classical Chinese medicine, spring belongs to the Wood Element, governed by the Liver and Gallbladder—organs that dream, plan, and propel us forward with vision and clarity.

 

Like the first green shoots breaking through the soil, we are meant to move now. If winter was a season of deep stillness, reflection, and storage, spring is the moment of unfurling—of allowing what was once held inside to reach toward light. It is a time to make decisions, to begin again, to act.

 

Yet, in our modern world, it’s easy to resist spring’s movement. We might feel stuck, scattered, or sluggish—caught between winter’s hibernation and the expectation of full-speed growth. If we move too fast, we risk burnout. If we don’t move at all, we stagnate. Acupuncture helps guide this seasonal transition, softening rigidity, opening the pathways of Qi, and allowing your body to follow spring’s natural rhythm without force or depletion.

 

This season, consider asking yourself:

🌱 What is waking up inside of me?

🌱 Where do I feel called to move?

🌱 How can I align my body, breath, and choices with this           natural unfolding?

 

There is no rush—only an invitation.

A Walking Meditation for Spring

 

One of the simplest ways to align with spring’s energy is through intentional movement—not just walking to get somewhere, but walking to notice.

 

A Simple Spring Walking Meditation:

 

1. Begin with your feet. Before moving, pause. Feel the weight of your body settling into the ground. Notice where your feet meet the earth, how the ground supports you. Take a breath.

 

2. Step outside with awareness. Whether in your backyard, a nature trail, or along a quiet street, begin your walk with the intention to observe the season as it arrives.

 

3. Expand outward—engage your senses. What do you smell? How does the air feel on your skin? Can you hear birdsong? Wind moving through trees?

 

4. Return inward—feel your feet again. Each time you notice your attention drifting outward, gently bring it back to your body. How do your steps land? What muscles engage as you move? What happens to your breath?

 

5. Oscillate between inner and outer awareness. Let your attention shift naturally—first absorbing the world around you, then drawing inward to your body’s movement and breath.

 

6. Walk with the season. Move like spring—soft but determined, expanding without force, awakening with curiosity.

 

A simple reflection to carry with you:

“What would it feel like to move forward with ease?”

When We Stop Pushing, Flow Begins

Spring is a season of movement, but in our world today, movement often feels like pushing, forcing, or fighting to be heard. We live in a time where information flies at us from every direction, and much of it is designed to contract us—to stir outrage, urgency, and a sense of being stuck inside something too vast to change.

 

When patients come in feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, or unable to see a way forward, I recognize something familiar—I see the same contraction in myself. Where am I gripping? Where has my own vision narrowed?

 

This is the beauty of the work I do. Acupuncture doesn’t force a solution—it creates space. It restores the smooth flow of Qi not just in the patient, but in the field we share together. And as their body begins to soften and move, I, too, am invited into clearer vision.

 

Like a dandelion breaking through the cracks in pavement, small openings reveal themselves where I thought there were none. The next steps start happening effortlessly—not because I’ve forced them, but because I’ve allowed myself to turn toward rhythm rather than reaction, flow rather than force.

This season asks us:

 

🌿 Where am I gripping too tightly?

🌿 Where might stillness allow for greater movement?

🌿 What would happen if I trusted flow more than force?

 

There is no need to rush forward, but there is also no need to stay stuck. Pausing is not stopping—it is listening. And in that listening, new pathways reveal themselves.