The Goddesses In Season

Artemis & the Trout Lily

Welcome to the end of April, y'all! Our neck of the woods is finally begining to wake up. Our grass is greener and the trees have their beginning buds. As mentioned in my last goddess post on Persephone, tree branches are beginning to reach toward the sun like thin spiderwebs. This isn’t mythology, but a real process called positive phototropism. It's the natural tendency of plants to grow toward light.

There’s something different about this part of spring. It's like the beginings of a very important project. It’s not showy yet. It’s not loud or full. It's nowhere near ready, and maybe it feels like it'll never come to fruition. It’s subtle, tucked beneath trees, hidden in the forest floor. You have to go looking for it.

This is where Artemis lives. This is where the trout lily lives. This is where Svahdyaya lives.

Artemis is the goddess of the hunt, the moon, and the wild. She moves through forests with ease. She is independent, instinctual, and deeply connected to the natural world. She is often depicted with a bow, accompanied by animals, untouched by the expectations placed on others. She doesn’t belong to the city or to structure. She belongs to herself.

The practice of svadhyaya, or self-study, intertwines with "belonging to the self". Not as something analytical or forced, but as a gentle turning inward. A willingness to listen without rushing to fix or define. Artemis teaches us that not everything needs to be understood right away — some things are meant to be felt, observed, and trusted over time.

The wildflower that mirrors this energy so beautifully: Trout Lily. Blooming low to the forest floor in early spring, it grows quietly in shaded spaces, often unnoticed unless you’re looking closely. It doesn’t rush toward the light or demand attention. It simply emerges, steady and sure, in its own time.

In many ways, this is what self-study looks like. Subtle. Patient. Rooted in stillness. Like the trout lily, and like Artemis, it invites us to soften, to listen, and to trust what is slowly rising within.

Artemis listens inward. She trusts her instincts. She reminds us of a part of ourselves that exists beneath the noise. This part that knows exactly what it needs when we give it space to speak.

Artemis & Moon Energy

Over time, Artemis became associated with the moon which is a natural counterpart to her twin brother, Apollo, who represents the sun. Where the sun is bright, direct, and outward, the moon is softer, reflective, and inward.

Like the moon, Artemis moves in cycles. She reminds us that not every day is meant for action or clarity. Some days are for rest, for observing, for simply being. Growth doesn’t always happen in the light. So much of our growth unfolds quietly, in the darker, more private spaces of our lives.

She is also deeply at home in the night. In forests, in stillness, in the unknown. There is no fear there, only presence. Artemis teaches us that darkness isn’t something to rush through or fix, but something we can learn to move within. This is truly something we can emulate in our own lives. With so much darkness and noise in our world, turning inward and being still just might be what's needed for a moment of calm in our chaos.

There’s also an independence in her that mirrors the moon’s steady rhythm. She does not seek approval or direction. She reflects what is already there. Artemis trusts herself and her journey.

Not everything needs to be figured out. Some things are meant to be felt. So often we find ourselves trying to plan, figure out other peoples plans, we plan for reactions, we plan for life. As we all know, not all plans work out and even with "planning for life"... "life" tends to go another way. When you are in life... take a breath. When it's good, bad, or boring you are still in life. Life is always unfolding with you. Always.

April Showers Bring May Flowers

Blooming in April, trout lilies grow low to the ground in quiet, shaded forests. Their mottled leaves resemble the pattern of a trout, and their soft yellow petals gently curve back toward the earth. They don’t demand attention. They don’t grow in open fields. They thrive in stillness, in shade, in places where not everyone thinks to look, much like Artemis. These flowers often grow in colonies, spreading slowly over time. The trout lily is a quiet, steady

presence in the forest. They are one of the earliest signs that the woods are waking up, even if the rest of the world still feels like it’s in between seasons.

And then there are the daffodils. A staple of New England spring, they are bright, steady, and often one of the first to rise despite the lingering cold. Daffodildon’t wait for perfect conditions. They push through frost, through unpredictable early spring weather, standing tall even when winter hasn’t fully released its grip. Not forceful, but enduring. In the same way, our practice -svadhyaya- doesn’t require everything to feel ready or resolved. It simply asks us to stay present, to remain open, and to trust that even in uncertain conditions, something within us is strong enough to rise.

Become the Observer of Your Life Unfolding

This is a time to reconnect with your own strength and steadiness. And not to do it forcefully, but intuitively. Spend about 5 slow, long breaths in this pose to truly connect with your body and where it's at. In each pose, you can even close your eyes for two breathes and feel where your body is grounded vs wobbly.

Settling into each pose to observe the body encourages the Sanskrit practice of svadhyaya: self study. Svadhyaya asks us to notice our body and mind, wobbles and all, without judgment. This allows us to have a second more of mental space to allow life to unfold for us rather than us react to life.

• Warrior II — grounded, focused, aware

• Crescent Lunge — strong yet fluid

• Tree Pose — rooted, balanced, quietly powerful

  
  

Move slowly. Let your body guide you. This isn’t about pushing, it’s about listening. Svadhyaya, who are you being when you enter each pose? Svadhyaya, who are you being as you unfold with life?

Reflection

Where in your life can you step back from the noise and listen more closely to yourself?

What would it feel like to trust your instincts, even just a little more?

Like the trout lily, not everything needs to bloom loudly to be meaningful.

Some of the most powerful growth happens quietly, beneath the trees, where instinct, like the moon, begins to glow a little brighter. Every step you take is a step forward, no matter how small. Every bit of effort you put into your life will always be worth it, even if the results aren't immidiate. Trust the process of life.

Remember, Life is unfolding with you. You are alive right now.

all the best,

jill

ps.... a poem by Mary Oliver that I find to be fitting for these uncertain times. keep following your joy. i beilive it's the reason why we are here on earth.