What's your intention for April?
starting again
Last month, I shared my intention to create a ritual for this Substack community — a way to mark the passage of time together and begin each month by sharing the intention we want to carry forward. Shout out to the folks who shared their intentions with us :)
31 days have passed us by and now, we stand at April’s doorstep — the month of spring’s arrival, of rebirth, and of renewal.
March was full — full of numbness, gratitude, movement, revelation, healing, grief, travel, clarity, stagnant energy, trust falls, release, aliveness, fear, expansion, contraction, and resistance. Several seasons of life lived within the span of 31 days.
The intensity of March left me yearning for stillness and spaciousness — space to make sense of and give shape to all that had unfolded. To loosen up on the grasping, the striving, the relentless forward motion — and integrate everything March had delivered.
My intention for April is to create moments to live aimlessly.
As you contemplate your intention for April, I’ll share an album and text to ground into:
one grounding album
Mike Posner dropped a new album, The Beginning, in February to honor his journey of reclaiming self-sovereignty and emergence from darkness to light.
This album is a soundtrack to that transformation. The Beginning is at its core, an album that celebrates life’s beauty, even in its imperfection — pointing to the rainbows while acknowledging that the sun doesn’t always shine. This marks The Beginning of a new chapter — one built on truth, courage, and gratitude.
It’s 44 minutes long and he recommends you listen to the full soundtrack in one sitting the first time through. I listened to it laying underneath the redwoods and cannot recommend it enough.
one grounding text
Last weekend, I sat a Sesshin (a period of intense meditation) retreat at the San Francisco Zen Center to honor a new life tradition I started a year ago: do a meditation sit the month before my birthday.
Ever since I was young, the arrival of my birthday has stirred something existential within me — a quiet unraveling into questions of identity, meaning, and becoming. The days leading up to it always seem to loom with a certain heaviness, filled with expectation of how I’ll spend this precious day, marking the close of one year and the threshold of the next. There’s something simultaneously haunting and beautiful about the liminal space that birthdays invite us into.
By sitting a meditation retreat before my birthday’s arrival, I give myself the permission to rest into the non-duality of grief, gratitude, sadness, joy, excitement, boredom, anticipation, dread, regret, acceptance, hope, and despair. It serves as a reminder that the opposing tensions within us need no resolution at the threshold between old and new identities and chapters.
Despite knowing this, I grappled with all flavors of resistance leading up to the retreat. Resistance in unplugging to meditate, in my book writing process, in half marathon training, in birthday plans.
Life has been brimming with fullness lately — it’s been one big act of doing. Amidst it all, I’d forgotten that some days, living is about putting down the agendas, moving through the day aimlessly, and allowing the world to unfold before us.
During the first and final dharma talk, the Zen Center Abbot read us the poem Aimless Love, reminding us to meet each day, each moment, with tender attention and the openness to fall in love with the ordinary.
This morning as I walked along the lake shore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.No lust, no slam of the door—
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor—
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.— Billy Collins
our community’s March intentions
Thanks to everyone who shared their March intentions with us!
- : My intention for March is to open and embrace the full truth of what I'm feeling
- : It's been a long-standing intention, but starting in March (and continuing anon) I want to start putting more of myself out there, doing things before I'm ready, and living VISIBLY instead of in the quiet comfort of my own under-tested abilities - TL;DR, put some writing out there, go to open mics, and get back dating!
- : I've returned to my home city after 4 years of nomading and my intention is to ground myself into my community that's here
- : Mine is to pay more attention to all the good stuff already present in my life- one little thing every day, deeply felt. And to keep building my community for those who want to engage with life more & accept their call to adventure.
- : Mine is to cultivate a deeper intimacy and connection with my own creativity - and to really allow my reception of beauty in my life to drive inspired movement of creative energy
- : This month I am calling it “Mission Non-stimulation March”
The reason? I’ve noticed too much dependency on my electronics and feeling too “plugged in”. I had a moment at the overstimulated Central mall in Chiang Rai, Thailand where I saw everyone glued to their screens around me at the food court. Even the children
Here are the fifteen small actions that Jen set out to take on for this project
What’s your intention for April?
What’s on your mind as we step into April? Let us know in the comments!
If you’re in San Francisco, join us for this morning’s April Fools edition of the plunge.
If you’re interested in joining for future plunges, RSVP "Can't Go" and you'll be added to future invites.
My April intention is to cook more! I'd like to strengthen my basic cooking skills as well as develop a solid base of recipes to draw on. I got "How to Cook Everything" for my birthday so I'll be reading through that as well!
My intention in April is to find a balanced pace. Last month had chunks of connection and disconnection, so this month I set up recurring plans and hope it keeps me consistently grounded. Have a good April!