I’ve returned to Boston just in time for the glorious springtime. The trees are blooming, the birds are singing, and new babies and puppies seem to be emerging from every doorway.

While I was away, some of my houseplants were a little bit neglected, and I was worried to see them so dried-out and bedraggled. It’s just a week later, but in every case, after just a little care, new shoots are emerging, new leaves are unfurling, and new flower buds are forming. Though they were holding steady before, after this cycle of deprivation and restoration, life is busting forth an an astounding rate.

Dear ones, we are gradually returning from a long dried-out period, where most of our energy has had to go toward basic sustenance. Bit by bit, if we are lucky, we are starting to regain a chance to nourish one another, and to tend to ourselves.

This return will not be quick, and cannot be rushed. It will take time to gather, time to celebrate, time to mourn. Whether plant or human, recovery needs to be layered in gently, not in one big whoosh.

Friends, as we slowly return to one another and to ourselves, may we respond to this relief as other living beings do.

May we send new life busting forth.