Clark Notes, Volume 3: Spring Equinox Ritual, a Year of Green, and My Human Body
My phone alerted me of an incoming message from a friend, whom I hadn’t seen in over two months.
We’re celebrating spring equinox specifically! So dress for spring, bring the witchy vibes, we’re doing a small informal ritual, it’s gonna be fun [sun emoji] [tulip emoji] [chick hatching emoji]
The day after the equinox was beautiful, the kind of weather for which my area has been waiting since the blanket of winter transitioned from feeling comforting to claustrophobic. In fact, it was so warm and sunny that I questioned if I was ready for the heat of summer. As I rode with another friend to the boutique plant bar, the warmth of the afternoon filling the car, my back most likely beginning to sweat, I decided yes, I am ready.
When I arrived, the invited group was already situated beneath the shade of a tree in the courtyard. A variety of artfully arranged plants and herbs decorated the tables, and some platters of charcuterie dotted the surfaces. After greeting everyone, I perused the drink menu, deciding on a cocktail of a purplish hue, concocted from lavender-infused gin, lemon, elderflower liqueur, and a finisher of prosecco splashed on top.
As the evening progressed, the friend who orchestrated the affair proffered an assortment of freshly picked herbs, pieces of thick paper, some pens, and a coil of twine. The first part of our ritual would entail writing down an intention for the season — to later either burn, plant, or save — and gathering a bundle of herbs to accompany it. We didn’t share what we’d written with each other, and not all of the intentions were recorded in words; one or two of us chose to draw a scene or symbols. After I contemplated and created mine, I rolled the paper into a scroll and affixed it to my herbs. The following morning, as the sun was still rising, I removed the scroll from the herbs and planted it at the root of a tree by the border of the yard and the wild woods beyond.
The second part of the ritual was more conversational. “What is something you are looking forward to as Spring progresses?” I responded with noticing the plants growing and blooming, the leaves appearing on trees, the landscape reinvigorating itself. As I answered, I realized this solar year is the first one to which I have noted a color personally associated. It began in last September when I purchased a new Hobonichi Weeks planner for 2026. The cover design I primarily wanted was sold out, so after browsing the store for some time I decided on the antique green option.
The appearance of green isn’t the only token that has marked this year as an affiliate of it, although the purchase of the Hobonichi Weeks, the sage green of my new iPad cover, the olive ink in my fountain pen, and the theme of my Substack page and logo certainly contribute to this notion. The color green conjures the ideas of growth and vitality, a touch of relaxation mixed with the primal wilderness.
Around February last year I made a commitment to focus on my physical health. During my time in Louisville, I had gained weight, not an overly unhealthy amount, but enough for both me and my friends to notice. Some gracious individuals mentioned I looked beefier or bulkier, which was a cause for alarm, since I had not been regularly exercising. However, one particular acquaintance, who takes performance-enhancing drugs and has lifted weights for two or three decades (think of a 6’4” Chris Hemsworth-esque man with tattoos and dermal fillers) went so far as to say that the reason he attracts hot men is he works out and is super muscular, but he knows I am too lazy to become like that, so I’ll always be single. It was one of the most hurtful things I’ve been told directly, partly because many people had just hit on him at the hotel bar and the manager had given him free drinks, while I remained thoroughly ignored by his side, but also partly because I recognized that it held some truth regarding my habits.
Please, understand I am not saying you must have massive biceps with calves to match if you want to feel attractive. However, amongst my anxiety towards gyms and my feeling of inadequacy in my masculinity that is all too prevalent in fellow homosexual men, I do know my lifestyle and eating habits had degenerated with no intervention from me. Therefore, in February of 2025, fueled by the idea of having a hot boy summer and by the voice of my primary physician expressing concern for the trajectory of my health, I promised myself I would change. I want to be proud in my earthly vessel, feel physically healthy, and take care of this bag of blood and bones that the universe gifted me.
Plus, I wanted to give a big “fuck you” to that man.
I guess one could say, to use a modern colloquialism, it was the beginning of my villain arc. I wanted to prove to both him and myself that I can accomplish difficult goals. Now, after more than a year of regularly exercising, I have lost over twenty-five pounds and have built strength and endurance. I know this might come across as bragging, and perhaps you are currently rolling your eyes and mimicking retching, but goddammit, I’m proud of my growth! Oddly enough, I enjoy my time at the gym now. I still feel out-of-place there and schedule my workouts during the most quiet times to minimize contact with others. I don’t believe this will ever change nor will I fully defeat the discomfort towards my body, but the majority of the battle is showing up.
There were several other topics and happenings that I wanted to share, but I will leave them for another time. I have not posted in four months, so this will provide me with an ample amount of thoughts to fill my future letters.
Witchingly,
— Clark
P.S. Clark Notes is (ideally) a weekly to biweekly letter, in which I take notes and thoughts from my notebook and transcribe them into a longer format to share online. Unlike more thorough and themed articles, these Clark Notes have a couple, non-related thoughts and ramblings to keep my corner of the internet updated on who knows what. Think inspiration, tidbits I find interesting, commentary, and other jots. Thank you for reading; you're the best!
