There’s a word for them in Polish, but not in English.
I remember my disappointment upon realizing that in a conversation one year. Wild strawberries? That’s it?!—I thought. It just didn’t give the magic of my sweet tiny forest jewels, fairy-tale-like and ephemeral. Mystical like the forest itself, small and full of flavour like moments cherished. Poziomki.
The word bounces in my mouth like the berries themselves, full of sweetness and charm. I place in my tongue and roll it around, checking it’s edges, enjoying the taste. Po-ziom-ki. Playful and bouncy, scrumptious.
Swedish forest edge is blanketed with their humble bushes, and when they bloomed my neighbour told me that the Swedes also have a distinct word to describe them. Smultron. Then, I learnt about yet another word. Smultronställe— literally the place where the wild strawberries grow, in Swedish it’s also a common phrase for a hidden gem, a place cherished, found and made yours. A secret and sacred refuge to come back to.
So around my solar return, when the forest roads are embroidered with smultron, and I lean with my nose towards the ground to find their red bellies, I’m asking myself a question about my sacred places, my smultronställen.
I sit back and open my journal. I take a long sauna midday and let the cool lakewater wash me up anew. I am a beginner and I am an expert, being born and returning to the familiar and cherished.
I’m crafting a list of my smultronställen, and I’m letting it come easy, slowly. There’s no rush to get to your sacred places.
And there’s a birthday letter from love. A practice I learnt from Liz Gilbert and have been leaning into it’s arms for solace, comfort and wisdom. On my solar return I write in big, bold letters:
Dear Love, what would you have me know about my birthday?
What comes out is a birthday loveletter from Love to me, from the Universe to this starseed from my Higher Self to the earthbound self. It’s a reminder of the things well known, things I can feel in my guts and need a moment to bring them back to the surface.
I had a birthday cake decorated with flowers, poziomki, raspberries and wild blueberries, all crafted into a beautiful mandala. All blooming and joyous, like the day itself. I am grateful I got to be born on a day like this, when the nature’s abundance showers me with forest gifts and wildflowers. All my birthday gifts can be foraged, and that is more than I could dream of.
Dear Love, what would you have me know about my birthday?
My darling birthday sugar puff,
What would I tell you about your birthday?
My sweetness, I love how much you already do know about it and how much you lean into celebrating your life on this day.
Yes!
I’m all about it.
I love how on this day in particular you remember that you are a wonder, a miracle and how your joy and playfulness constantly reminds others of that of their own. Dear nugget, your birthdays are such a joy for people around you who absolutely love showering you with, you guessed it—Love, and seeing you receive it. What a gift to lean into full receiving. After all, it’s all meant for you to enjoy. My darling sweet pea pod, I adore celebrating your day with you. And celebrate I do. I’m sure you noticed, how it’s all perfectly orchestrated.
In peonies that bloom just in time, alongside the wild roses and camomiles. I celebrate you with the sweetest juices of poziomki that pop in the forest grass right on time. I celebrate you with the longest day of the year, to stretch your day into night, to extent this celebration beyond a day-timeframe. But darling I also celebrate you every single other day of the year, with the mist that hangs low on the chilled lake and with the first snowfall of the season. I celebrate you with golden fall leaves and with the moonshine reflection on the late-summer lake. I celebrate you each morning and each evening, for each sunrise and moonrise are me, raising my glass in your salute. So my darling, yes today I shower you with abundance of gifts, a wave of offerings, but it’s no bigger or smaller than I do on any given day. My wish for you is to simply have the birthday eyes to see it. Celebrate your solar return and another lap around the star, and darling seedling, celebrate every step of the way, too. You’re born anew everyday and everyday you deserve a feast, a dance and a song of celebration, and if you’re open to see it, you’ll notice all around you the world already does the celebration!
Go and dance. Enjoy your party. It’s all perfectly orchestrated for you!
Happy birthday!
Happy birth!
Happy day!
Love,
Love