🌿 Sacred Spring — Rising Wiser

My Dearest Friend,

A few mornings ago, I stood in the kitchen holding a warm cup of coffee and noticed the light coming through the window. It wasn’t the sharp, pale light of winter. It felt softer, warmer, and it lingered differently on the counter. I stood there la little onger than usual, and in that quiet moment I felt something shift inside me. It wasn’t excitement or urgency. It was a just a quiet readiness.

This past winter did something gentle and important in me. I found myself reflecting more than planning. I wasn’t mapping out the next big thing or pushing for clarity. I was simply sitting with what surfaced — old thoughts, old expectations, even timelines I didn’t realize I was still holding onto. Some of those layers softened. Others required more honesty.

One of those honest moments came when I had to sit down with myself and acknowledge my elevated blood pressure. There wasn’t panic around it, but there was awareness. My body was asking me to pay attention — not someday, but now. Instead of brushing it aside, I leaned in. I researched. I asked better questions. I listened more carefully.

In that process, I learned that Dr. Axe often recommends ylang ylang for its calming effect on the nervous system and its support during stress. That resonated with me, not as a cure, but as gentle support for regulation. Around that same time, I pulled out one of my metaphysical health books and looked up elevated blood pressure. The interpretation that caught my attention spoke about tension around love — about holding instead of receiving, about a kind of guardedness that can build quietly over time. It didn’t feel condemning. It felt reflective. It made me pause.

I began asking myself different questions. Where have I been bracing? Where have I been protecting instead of softening? Where have I made love — in all its forms — something I manage rather than something I allow myself to receive? That reflection felt just as important as the research.

So I created a small aroma sniffer with ylang ylang, often called the oil of the inner child, blended with lavender for communication and emotional balance. I also made a simple 10 ml roller so it would be easy to reach for during the day. Now in the mornings, I place a single drop of ylang ylang over my heart, open the bottle, and take three slow breaths. That’s it. No elaborate ritual. Just three intentional breaths. And something shifts. My shoulders soften. My breathing deepens. My body eases out of that subtle bracing I didn’t even realize I was carrying.

It reminded me of something I teach often and continue learning myself: the nervous system responds to safety, not pressure. We cannot think our way into calm; we regulate into it. Over time, I’ve felt the difference — not overnight, not magically, but steadily. My body responding to consistency, to care, to being listened to.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I was reminded of something else that feels important to say out loud: coaches need coaching too. Just because we guide others does not mean we are meant to do our own work alone. Having someone reflect things back to me, ask honest questions, and hold space without judgment has been an essential part of my own regulation and growth. Support doesn’t mean something is wrong. It means we’re listening.

I still sit with selenite when I need clarity. I now journal with fluorite nearby when something feels tangled. Sandalwood has turned reflection into something sacred rather than analytical. Cedarwood keeps me grounded, reminding me that intentions need roots if they are going to grow. None of it has been dramatic. Just small choices, repeated.

That is what March feels like to me this year. Not a grand restart. Not reinvention. Just space. Spring energy can make us want to leap forward and overhaul everything at once, but the kind of growth that lasts feels steadier than that. There’s a pause each year when light and dark stand equal before the days stretch longer — almost like the world takes a breath before expanding. I think we do the same.

If you’ve heard the phrase “get on the Fire Horse,” I smile. To me, it simply means momentum becomes available when we decide we’re ready to engage it — not because the calendar changed, but because something inside us shifted. After standing in that kitchen light, the small step I took wasn’t glamorous. It was simply committing to support my body differently, to soften where I’ve been bracing, and to stop postponing what I already knew needed attention. That decision built trust.

I don’t need to reinvent myself this spring. I just need to move forward a little more intentionally than I did before.

If you feel that same quiet readiness, I’ve created a simple 5-minute Spring Renewal Meditation to support this season of clearing and planting. And if you’re ready for deeper guidance, my virtual Reiki and somatic coaching sessions this month are centered around renewal and grounded action.

Spring isn’t asking us to start over. It’s inviting us to rise — with everything we’ve learned.

With warmth and intention,

Riki Marie

Holistic Living Tips & Natural Solutions

Naturally EOS LLC / Naturally-Refreshing