CIRCLED WITH CARE
Bringing Ideas Together for an Alchemical experiment with Integration and body wisdom.
“Bloom—is Result—to meet a Flower
And casually glance
Would scarcely cause one to suspect
The minor Circumstance
Assisting in the Bright Affair
So intricately done
Then offered as a Butterfly
To the Meridian—”
AN OBSERVATION
In many ways, Spring feels like the true beginning of the year. The sharp edges of winter begin to soften. Buds unfurl. Light stretches later into the day. Something stirs—not just in the soil, but in the soul. It’s a season that invites reflection and renewal. A time to begin again—not by doing more, but by becoming more whole.
In the symbolic language of alchemy, conjunction is the fourth phase—a sacred merging of opposites. It's known as the mysterium coniunctionis, or the alchemical marriage, where masculine and feminine, logic and emotion unite. This union doesn't dissolve differences—it honors them. Through their joining, something entirely new emerges.
This concept transcends metaphor. It's an energetic process that calls to us during times of transition, tension, or reawakening. While the world demands clarity and decisiveness, the heart poses a different question: What if both are true?
Conjunction invites us to release the binary grip of "this or that" and instead explore "this and that." Not to dwell in contradiction, but to create a fuller integration. It's a liminal space—uncomfortable at times, yet deeply creative.
As seasons shift and new rhythms settle in, this practice reminds us: growth doesn't always come from choosing sides. Sometimes, it flows from creative integration and a sense of wholeness.
COMPASSION AS AN EXPERIMENT
Before we can integrate opposites within ourselves, we must first soften—not through force or willpower, but through presence.
One surprisingly simple way to do this is by synchronizing our movements with another person, even something as subtle as tapping fingertips in rhythm. It might sound silly, but when we tried it we found the test was calming. A natural rest.
Research from the Greater Good Science Center shows that mirroring gestures, particularly in quiet or meditative settings, increases compassionate behavior. When two people match each other's movements—like tapping fingers in time—they create a sense of attunement that calms the nervous system and deepens empathy.
This somatic awareness isn't just for connecting with others—it opens the doorway to connect more gently with ourselves. Compassion is more than an emotional state; it's a rhythm we can learn to feel, practice, and embody. It is not something we necessarily have to act upon.
As we prepare for creative or reflective work, beginning with a moment of rhythmic synchrony—whether with nature, sound, or breath—creates a grounding threshold. It's a pause that reminds us: we are not separate from each other or from the wisdom within.
AN Alchemical Guide
Using a flower as both symbolic and sensory guide allows us to access our inner opposites gently, playfully, and poetically. The flower becomes an oracle not through prediction, but through deepening perception.
You'll need:
A flower that calls to you
Paper and pen
10–15 minutes of undisturbed time
Step 1:
Choose your flower, guided by intuition.
Step 2:
Hold the flower. Play with the question below in flow. Let a word guide you. See what unfolds—not as a performance, but as perspective.
Write five variations of this prompt:
"How does it feel to be [adjective]?"
Step 3:
Choose the word that resonates most deeply. Circle it. Turn your paper over. Pause.
Step 4:
Spend 5 or so minutes responding creatively and without judgement.
Write, list, or sketch—follow where the flower and word leads you.
Allow this practice to bridge the gap between your sensing body and inner world.
Wholeness as a Creative Power
When we let go of choosing one way of being over another—logic or feeling, action or rest—we touch the possibility of something richer: wholeness. Not a tidy resolution, but a living integration. A creative power emerges not from certainty, but from complexity held with care.
In alchemical terms, this is the essence of conjunction: the union of spirit and soul, masculine and feminine, sun and moon. It's a symbolic marriage that becomes a felt experience, alive in the body through sensation, breath, image, and rhythm.
From this place, the question becomes:
What might emerge when I stop reducing myself to either/or—and begin to honor both/and?
This "third thing" that arises from the union of opposites isn't always easy to name. It might appear as a shift in tone, a softening of judgment, or a surprising sense of clarity. It could bring a creative insight, a deep knowing, or simply the courage to become boldly.
The heart, as a symbolic center, holds this paradox beautifully. It beats in rhythm, receives and gives, contracts and expands. It knows that life moves not in lines but in the pulse of what it values—alive and dynamic.
To live from this place is to let opposites inform each other—and to let creation arise from the openness and space between.
Intelligence of the Heart
This is not a practice of perfection—it's a gentle invitation to presence. To sit with beauty, listen in new ways, and allow the union of opposites to stir something original within you.
Allowing the shape and texture to become a companion to your inner thoughts, creative process, or seasonal reflection. You need not understand every aspect—what matters is the sincerity of your attention.
When you're done, reflect on this phrase, or write one that is unique to you. Post it somewhere you'll see:
From the union of opposites, I return to the wisdom of the heart. May my creativity flow and may I renew by circling back to receive.
“To pack the Bud—oppose the Worm—
obtain its right of Dew—
Adjust the Heat—elude the Wind—
Escape the prowling Bee
Great Nature not to disappoint
Awaiting Her that Day—
To be a Flower, is profound
Responsibility—”
— Emily Dickinson