Our Super Simple Spring Equinox Ritual
- Amy Lollis
- Mar 17
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 22
Hello, beautiful soul!
Today, I want to talk about something that has been on my heart for a while: rituals. Now, before you roll your eyes and think this is some big witchy, woo-woo thing, hear me out.
My family isn’t religious, nor are we deeply tied to any one belief system. Instead, we focus on being in tune with nature, letting it guide our rhythm through the seasons. For us, rituals aren’t about buying fancy tools, reciting scripted words, or creating elaborate ceremonies. They’re about simple, meaningful interactions with nature and daily life.
Letting Go of the Holiday Hustle
For years, I felt like it was my job to make every moment magical for my family. Holidays became a production—extravagant meals, decorations, handmade gifts, and traditions stacked on top of traditions. I was running myself into the ground, making sure every holiday was perfect.
But you know what happened?
I burned out. Hard.
The magic disappeared for me, and instead of enjoying the holidays, I found myself crying in my pajamas for three days straight after each one, completely drained. My kids remembered the joy, but they also remembered the overwhelm—the exhaustion in my eyes, the stress in my voice. And that’s not the kind of memory I wanted to give them.
So last year, I made a shift. I decided that holidays should be just as magical for me as they are for my family. That meant simplifying.
Take St. Patrick’s Day, for example. It’s a big deal in our home, but not in the traditional "wear green, drink beer, and celebrate St. Patrick" kind of way. We honor our ancestors—the ones whose culture was lost to colonization. Instead of shamrocks and corned beef, we make a meal that reflects what they would have actually eaten: duck and dumpling stew over colcannon (mashed potatoes with sautéed cabbage, onions, and bacon).
In previous years, I would have added homemade bread, desserts, salads, and extra side dishes, just to make it feel "special." This year, I asked myself: What do we actually look forward to? And the answer was clear: the stew and the colcannon. So that’s all I made. And guess what? No one complained. No one even noticed that the extras were missing.
But I noticed. Because for the first time in years, I wasn’t exhausted or resentful. I wasn’t an "invisible elf" working behind the scenes to make magic for everyone else. I was present, relaxed, and enjoying the day.
Our Spring Equinox Ritual: Simple, Meaningful, and Aligned
This shift toward simplified rituals has also changed the way we approach seasonal transitions, like the Spring Equinox.
As unschoolers, our learning follows the rhythms of nature, and spring is a major turning point. Winter in Oklahoma is brutal—freezing temperatures, harsh winds, and snowstorms mean we spend a lot of time indoors. By the time spring rolls around, our land looks like it has been through battle, and our days have been dictated by the cold.
So for our Spring Equinox ritual, we focus on reawakening and reconnecting—with the earth, with each other, and with the natural cycles around us.
We don’t do elaborate ceremonies. Instead, our ritual is woven into our everyday actions:
Tending to the land: Cleaning up after winter storms, preparing the garden, and restoring our space for the season of growth ahead.
Spending intentional time outdoors: Taking walks, feeling the sun on our skin, and acknowledging the shift from dormancy to renewal.
Honoring what’s available: Using seasonal, locally-sourced foods in our meals, just as our ancestors would have.
This idea of simple, natural magic is something I’ve leaned into hard. The big, showy rituals we often see online? They might be meaningful for some, but historically, our ancestors made do with what they had. Their rituals weren’t about elaborate spells or tools—they were about using what was available, finding connection in the simple things, and honoring the shifts of the earth in a way that felt aligned with their daily lives.
Bringing the Magic Back (Without the Burnout)
If you take anything from this, let it be this: magic doesn’t have to be complicated. Rituals don’t have to be performances. The real magic is in the intention, the presence, and the alignment with what truly matters.
So if you’ve been feeling overwhelmed by holidays, traditions, or expectations, I invite you to let go of what drains you and hold onto what actually brings you joy. Simplify. Give yourself permission to experience the magic, instead of just creating it for everyone else.
Because you deserve to enjoy the beauty of life, too.
With love, Amy
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