March Moves
There is a moment in almost every piece I make when I want to stop.
Not because it isn’t working. Because it almost is.
The painting is nearly there. The essay is close, the love letter needs but one line. And something in me, a tight, buzzy, chest constricting sensation, compels me to pull back. To hold it a little longer. To make it more of what I intended before I let it go out into the world to become something else entirely.
I’ve come to recognize this feeling. It isn’t a signal that something is wrong. It’s a signal that something is about to move.
This is where the Wood element lives, not in the easy upward surge of spring, but in this exact threshold. The place where becoming meets resistance. Where the thing that has been gathering beneath the surface finally has to decide when it’s willing to be seen.
The early crocus doesn't pause at the frozen ground and wonder whether it's ready. It doesn’t refine its approach or wait for better conditions. No, It simply continues in the direction it was always moving. Not because the timing is perfect. Because it’s time.
I've been thinking about this a lot as the beginning of March arrives.
January held, February stirred. And now something wants to move. In my studio, in my writing, and I suspect in many of you reading this.
For much of last year, I was quiet, I barely shared any of my writing, or even my art. It felt appropriate to languish in the water element and be supported by the quiet solitude of process and becoming.
However, the tide has shifted, you may have noticed these past few months, I feel this propulsion that I don’t have full control over, its a force from deep within that is urging me to be visible. To share, be seen and even heard.
That buzzy, constricted feeling isn’t a reason to stop. It isn’t perfectionism protecting you or intuition warning you away. It's the feeling of something real preparing to meet the world. And the world needs what you’ve been quietly making in the dark.
The answer, I’ve learned, is almost always to proceed.
Not to force, Not to abandon, To proceed.
To let the work go out into the world to have its own expression. Perhaps different than you intended, but no less true. No less needed, No less yours.
March moves. Not because it’s ready
Because it’s time.
Sit with these questions to support you:
What in my life is ready to proceed?
Where do I feel myself wanting to hold back and instead of share?
What would it mean to proceed before you feel ready?
XO Ashley
P.S. March's Print Club print is almost ready. I'll be sharing it with you next Sunday. If you'd like to ensure it finds it way to your door, you can join anytime at the link below.