The Jewish Pesach is a springtime holiday. Social forms awaken, and people have their being within them, and know them as what it is to have life. With, on occasion, predictable results.
Notably, I think all of the Abrahamic faiths have a sacramental renunciation or ascetic memorial with the end of winter and the return of life -- long fasts, prayer, almsgiving.
Not to renounce life, but perhaps, by focusing your mind on God during the beginning of the annual floreat, to ensure that when you have life, you yourself have it to the fullest.
There is a moment in one of John Crowley's novels where one character says to another "I've lived in New York for (so-and-so many) years," and the other replies "Are you sure about that?"
Not, of course, questioning the duration.
Thoughts of Cluj, and the old medieval church, and the odd Hungarian theatre. Not to mention the national theatre, which is precisely as it was over a hundred years ago, which is remarkable. And Sibiu as well, the SJ church, and the old town walls. Transylvania on my mind.