Many years ago, the midpoint of March gave me pause. A riotous time, no less for the energies that stir after winter, as for the fate of one Julius Caesar.
Imbolg, the vernal equinox, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, they all have their feet in the experience of emergence. Nature, human or not, cannot be contained.
Back then, it seemed smart to open the doors and windows and let those energies pass through. Now I am more likely to join in the dance myself, one hand and all.
The crows do not fly for you. Unless you be despot, fear not the Ides of March. Marvel at the moon, run in the rain…but try not to fall down.
Shouldn't...but Do 
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