Spring: The Dance of Light & Shadow

Spring is more than a season; it is a threshold, a portal, and a moment of profound transformation. It is the balance of light and dark, renewal and release, creation and destruction.

In this episode of Mystical Musings of Altered Haven, we explore the shamanic wisdom of spring, uncovering the truth behind its beauty and its shadows. Through ancient storytelling, rituals, and the power of neuroplasticity, we navigate the rupture and rebirth that this season brings.

🌱 Topics Covered:

• The direction of the East and how it aligns with renewal
• The Raven & the First Light—a sacred story of light emerging from darkness
• Why spring can feel like upheaval, not just renewal
• Shadow work in spring—why we resist change and how to surrender
• Rituals for letting go, planting new intentions, and aligning with the season
• How small actions create momentum for growth

Spring does not wait. It moves, shifts, and transforms, asking us one question: Will we move with it, or fight against the very growth we desire?

✨ Are you ready to align with the rhythm of your becoming? ✨

Connect & Explore:
Website: AlteredHaven.com
Offerings: Rituals, coaching, and energy work to support transformation

Transcript

 Close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Feel the earth beneath you. Warming, stirring, shifting. Can you sense it? The pulse of the land, awakening the quiet hum beneath your feet. As the roots begin, their slow, steady, push forward the light.  Welcome Sparks of Joy to another journey on mystical musings of Altered Haven.

I'm your guide, Trina , rn, national Board Wellness and Holistic Code, shamanic and Angelic practitioner and reiki master. And today we stand at the threshold of spring, a season of birth and destruction and light and shadow and renewal and release. Because spring is not just about new life. It is also about what must die for the life to emerge.

It is the seed splitting, open the storm, breaking the sky, the animal, waking from hibernation, hungry, disoriented, trembling in the sun. Spring is beautiful, but it's not gentle. It is the season of rupture, the moment when the earth does not ask. If we are ready, it moves, it change, and we must move with it. 

So today we're going to step into this dance of creation and destruction, exploring the ancient wisdom of spring, the shamanic understanding of renewal with the rituals to guide us and help us align and the shadows that must be faced before the growth emerges. Are you ready?  

 Now before you roll your eyes, thinking Trina, I know what spring is. It's when the snow melts, the flowers bloom, and I suddenly remember I own sandals. But let me stop you right there. Because spring is more than a season. It's a threshold. It's a sacred portal. It's a moment when the earth whispers its time.

And if we listen. Truly listen, this season can be one of the most powerful catalysts for transformations in our lives. But here's the thing,  nature doesn't rush. It doesn't rush this process, and neither should we. We're going to slow down and really explore the depth of what spring offers. We're gonna use the shamanic eyes with rituals and the natural rhythms we're meant to align with.

Spring is a season of transformation.  You know, one thing I love about nature is how unapologetically it is itself. Trees don't hesitate to bloom. The river doesn't give a second guess when to thaw. The sun doesn't ask permission to rise. And yet we humans, oh, we hesitate. We analyze, we overthink. We hold on to things long past their season.

That's why spring is so important. It's a time of momentum, but it's also a time of trust. In Sermonic traditions, spring aligns with the direction of the east, the direction of the rising sun, new beginnings and rebirth. It is a time when stagnant energy is released and dreams start forming and new paths emerge. 

But just like nature, we just don't snap into renewal. It's a process. It's a dance. It's between letting go and stepping forward. And to do that, we have to understand something fundamental about this season. Before we understand that, let's move into a story, a shamanic story of light and shadow, the raven and the first light. 

Now in many indigenous traditions, the return of the sun is marked by a sacred story, and one of my favorites comes from the chenge people of the tides of the Pacific Northwest. The story of the raven and the first light  long ago.  The world was trapped in darkness. There was no sun, no moon, only endless night.

And in this dark world, a selfish old man kept all the light hidden in a box inside his long house. He refused to share it with the world, keeping it locked away for himself. But Raven, the trickster, the shapeshifter, the one who moves between worlds, knew the light must be freed. So he transformed himself into a small child and tricked his way into the old man's house, and one day when the old man wasn't looking, Raven stole the light.

But as Raven flew away, the old man woke up furious. He chased after the raven screaming and cursing, trying to take back what he had stolen. Raven was exhausted, his wings burning, his body changing in the heat of the stolen light. He had never felt such pain,  but just as old man reached for him, Raven let go,  and the light it shattered.

It broke apart into millions of pieces. Some of it became the sun, some became the moon, and the tiniest fragments turned into stars. And that, my friends, is how the world received its first light.  So why does this story matter?  Because even the return of the light comes with struggle, trickery, and pain. 

Even in the most beautiful transformation, something must be sacrificed, and that is the meaning of spring. Spring is not gentle. It is a wild birth of a new world,  of a new being, and we must ask ourselves, what must we let go of so we can step into our own light as we stand at this threshold of spring. 

It's a season of birth destruction, light and shadow, renewal and release.  Because spring is just not about new life.  It is also about what must die. For that life to emerge, it is a seed splitting. Open the storm, breaking the sky,  the animal, waking from hibernation, hungry, disoriented, trembling. Spring is beautiful, but it's not gentle.

It's rupture when the earth  doesn't ask. If we're ready, it just moves. It changes,  and we must move with it as well.  It's a beautiful dance of creation and destruction. There's a shadow piece to spring that I wanna touch on.  It's when awakening feels like dying.  People don't talk about the shadows of spring.

They celebrate the flowers, the dance, and the sunshine, and they say, ah, finally, the warmth after winter. But  they forget. Winter is still inside us. In some pieces,  the old wombs have not been fully healed. The old fears have not been fully.  Died or let go of.  And for some spring is not a joyful transition. 

It is a battle between the self  and the self that is becoming,  because every rebirth requires a death.  Every transformation comes with a breaking,  and not everyone is ready for that.  Did you know the suicide rate peaks in spring? Not in winter. When the world is cold and quiet. But the SE of awakening, because spring does not just awaken joy, it awakens everything.

It stirs what has been resting, buried or ignored. It forces movement where there was stillness, and sometimes that movement is painful. For some, the energy of renewal feels like a violent uprooting,  a demand to grow before they're ready. I. The pressure to emerge to rise, to be productive and vibrant can be so overwhelming  when the internal landscape is still so raw, uncertain, or lost in the echoes of winter still  and Shamonic eyes.

Spring is the season of rupture a  breaking through.  It's the moment when the old self fights to survive. The moment when light exposes what was hidden in the dark.  Think about it.  A seed does not grow until it splits apart. A butterfly was not born until the caliber hillers disintegration inside the cocoon. 

A river does not melt into peace. It crashes through the ice. Flooding, expanding, breaking through with resistance,  nature understands what we do not.  Growth is violent, it is raw, it is necessary, and yet we resist. We hold on to our dead leaves even as spring winds up to try to whip them away.  We clinging to what is comfortable  even when it's killing us  mentally, emotionally, physically. 

We fear change,  even as life pulls us towards it. We resist.  We clinging on to things that don't serve us, whether that's relationships, jobs,  our old belief systems.  They're comfortable. They're what we know because change brings uncertainty. It brings risks, it brings the unknown, right?  But resistance  does not stop the transformation.

It only makes it harder. It makes it more painful if we resist.  This is when action becomes the bridge between the suffering and the growth.  Spring does not demand that we be fully healed or entirely ready. No, it doesn't,  but it's not gonna wait for us to feel inspired or certain that we know our direction and path it's gonna move.

It's a constant motion.  And it will teach us that movement.  Any movement creates momentum.  Even the smallest step forward breaks the cycle of stagnation. Even the tiniest shift in thoughts brings the rewiring of the mind.  Even the softest willingness to change disrupts the illusion that we are stuck.  We do not have to force the bloom. 

We must be willing to lean into its process.

Spring does not ask for permission. It happens. It shifts. It forces. We must decide, will we move with it or will we fight against the very growth we have been longing for? Because in the end, the question is never whether the season will change. The question is whether we will allow ourselves to change with it.

How profound right? Will we change with it?  We have to face the shadow pieces,  so I'm gonna ask you, what are you clinging to?  Before we can step into the light, we must ask ourselves, what am I still holding onto? Because here's the truth, if you don't release spring, it will rip it from you.  It will change and it will make that change come with or without your permission. 

But how painful it's going to be depends on whether you surrender or you fight it. Did you hear that? Whether you surrender or you fight it.  So these are some questions reflect on for the shadow piece,  what old identity am I clinging to out of fear?  What am I afraid will happen if I let go?  Where am I resisting the natural flow of life? 

What needs to be mourned before I can move forward?  And I want you to sit with these questions, write 'em down, don't rush the answers, because they will come and whispers at first and then in waves.  And then part of spring is purging.  The shamans consider it the sacred purge, releasing the old before growth. 

Nature does not hoard things. The trees do not clinging onto dead leaves. The river does not beg the ice to stay, and yet we humans hold onto things.  But before anything can be born, the old must be cleared. This is a sacred law even in every tradition, every culture, every cycle of the earth.  So what are some rituals for release? 

One of my favorites is fire ceremony.  Write down what you are releasing the old fears, limiting beliefs, the wombs, speak them out loud and then burn them in a fire or a candle flame. Let them become smoke. Let them be returned back into the sky. Back up into Father Sky.  A cleansing water ritual. Take a salt bath.

Pour water over your hands symbolizing the washing away of the past. Feel it leaving you like ice melting into the sea when you're in the shower. Set that intention of release cleansing down into the drain, and then also filling in. Whenever we cleanse, we gotta fill in too.  Smudging and energy clearing. 

Burn sage,  cedar, or Paulo Santos. Walk through your space. Your body, your mind  clearing what no longer serves you  and say, I release all that is not mine to carry.  Because you cannot carry the weight of winter into the light of spring. Let it go. I literally hear the frozen song over and over. Let it go.

Let it go.  And sprinkling. Get that stuff outta your house that doesn't serve. Cleanse it out, get it out.  My husband's an notorious person of holding on things that we don't need to hold onto, and he's been getting better with it, of letting those pieces go to release it for us to bring in better energy, more, less stagnation into the home. 

Now, how do we find balance?  It's really a dance of light and shadow.  The earth does not live in extremes. It does not choose only light or only dark. It dances in between them and so must we.  Spring teaches us balance. It asks us to honor both what is leaving and what is arriving.  It is the equinox, the day when light and dark stand us equal.

It is the season where death feeds life, where endings become beginnings, where the past and future meet in the present.  So how do we work both, both of these energies?  Well, we're gonna honor the light by celebrating your growth, your movement, and your intentions. Do those little celebrations, get that favorite coffee, those things, those accomplishments, and acknowledge you working on your own healing and celebrate that. 

And how do we honor the dark By acknowledging your grief, your fears, what you're shedding.  Putting boundaries down, saying, no, I'm no longer gonna be treated like this or be talked to in that way.  Or saying the word no is such a power word, no.  And then you're gonna bring them together through ritual, through journaling and mindful awareness. 

You're both the seed and you're the soil,  the light and the shadow. The past and the becoming, you've gotta honor it all together. They are not separate,

and you need to trust the rhythm of your becoming.  And so we return to where we began with the breath of the earth, the stirring of the land, the gentle of folding of all things in their time.  And remember, the earth does not rush. Its blooming, and neither should you let the sun return in its own time.

Let the seed break when it's ready, let the old self die so the new one can emerge. This is spring. This is the great dance. It's the inhale, the exhale, the light and the shadow. The falling and the rising is death of what was, and the labor of what will be.  That the process is trusted, that the flow is surrendered to if both light and shadowed or honored and acknowledge.

Then just like the Raven, the world will open and the light will finally be seen for its fullness. So this season unfolds. Ask yourself,  what will you surrender?  What will you plant for growth?  How will you honor both the light and darkness and the dawn? The in between time  Spring is not forcing the growth.

It's about aligning with it. It's about trusting the unfolding happens in its own divine timing.  If you're ready to deepen this work, to move through the shifts of the seasons with intention, awareness,  and balance,  I want you to explore the offerings at Altered Haven.  A national board certified wellness coach, holistic coach, RN, and energy practitioner.

My work bridges a space between science and spirit.  I help people navigate transformation a way that is grounded, intentional, and deeply aligned with nature's rhythms, whether it's ritual coaching or energy work, this is where both the release and the becoming are honored.  Visit altered haven.com for upcoming sessions, seasonal ceremonies and tools to support your growth. 

Until next time, stay wild, stay grounded, and trust the rhythm of your own becoming.