I was reflecting today on the loss of something that has felt meaningful in my life. The ending of something beautiful- something that was an answer to prayer- and now is out of my control.
I was noticing my feelings of sadness. And amidst the processing of this (which is an important and separate issue), I noticed something else was also going on. A foundational thought driving all of it:
I was stuck in Winter.
Last month I spoke to you about Wintering- the value of living in the season we are in. The kind of living that matches the world we were designed for. The harmony and structure of natural seasons. The ebb and flow for man and beast, plant and flower. And how vital winter is for nourishment, rest, and reflection.
I asked you: is it possible that when you try to live the same schedule all year long, matching the energy of culture or some world ideology, but not matching what the plants and animals are doing right now…that is when life feels heavy, hard, and forced? That perhaps when we think every day and month should look the same, we are denying our humanness?
And then February happens.
But we forget what February means…..how it impacts our inner spirit.
It’s that transitional period. When the resting starts to feel like lethargy. When the days begin to blur together. When your mind starts to believe that gray and cold are all the world has for you.
The mind begins to drift toward regret, darkness, fatigue. Every day feels a bit hopeless. Something feels ready to begin anew, but there is no clear way forward. It isn’t spring yet. A brief fool’s spring may have tricked you into false hope. And now the dreariness is back.
You’re itching for clarity. For something new. Fresh.
But it doesn’t come naturally….not yet. So you force it.
And so you begin to self-doubt. To self-judge. You look at things in your life and think they need changing. You begin to hyper-control what you are able to change because everything else feels stuck in Winter.
This is when the mind tricks us into hopelessness. We think thoughts and believe things about ourselves and our future that simply aren’t true.
And then a circumstance happens: something genuinely sad and out of our control, and we can start to believe that this entire season has been a waste. That there has been no promised nourishment for spring growth.
But we’ve forgotten.
It’s just February.
The month when the edges of every memory and circumstance are tinged in gray.
But it is not possible to grow, to bloom, to inspire others or ourselves, until we’ve been buried. Until we’ve seen and felt the darkness. Sat in the mud and muck. Allowed it to be. Believed that this is the ending of somehting, a death if you will, and that spring is coming.
Spring is coming.
Only when we learn to truly live in our season does the opportunity for real joy, and real loss, and what that can bring us, emerges.
And this is what creates Spring.
An ending.
A beginning.
~ your coach, Molly
