When we’re aligned with the seasons and the flow of nature, we encounter similar “seasons” in our interior world. What cracks open my hardened winter shell is the emergence of the pasqueflower in late March. What, or who, is it that brings on each season within you…your muse?

Once all the flashy, outer expression has been displayed, a subtler, more refined beauty can unfold. The same is true of us.  After the need to be seen, heard, or understood, an inner beauty of raw reality is exposed...and we finally blossom.

A rose, by any other name...What happens when you take away the monikers that define who you are: parent, spouse, child, your work, ethnicity, where you're from, etc.? What's left after you peel back all those layers...the sweet, juicy fruit of your core. How does this inner self compare to the labels we contort ourselves into? Or are you like the rose?