Guided By Seasonal Wisdom
As some of you know, I spent the last 5+ years on the west coast. In San Francisco to be precise.
I showed up on the foggy seashore in 2014 ready to face the unknown. Fresh faced and completely thrilled by the idea of discovering all the ‘whys’ from that little peninsula so that I could all in all throw in the towel finally declaring, “I get it! I understand life!”
Oh the passion. The desire.
What followed was far from that, but hey, it has been an adventure nonetheless. And though I am still climbing and searching, my time in the west empowered me with a mindset that has allowed me to sustain my drive, to appreciate the present, to be.
To exist knowing that things are in constant flux, and that if I don’t pay attention right now, in this very moment, life may pass me by. Sometimes we search for what’s been there all along, what’s in us. It’s easy to miss. Hidden where we least expect it, sneaky Universe.
Now, after spending some time back in the spaces and places I grew up I have learned some of the midwestern treasures I had caged my heart off to in my younger turmoiled years.
One of the biggest joys in the past months has been the seasonal shifts. Nature’s way of marking time. Of rhythmically dancing through space. No numbers for my analytic mind to compartmentalize. Just seeds sprouting, flowerings stretching upward, birds chirping.
Now I know, I know. The west coast has plenty of nature. And while it is true that SF connected me deeply to its soil, I never experienced a time without it. Without nature's presence. And sometimes in my life I have found that time away can really instill a deep gratitude for what is missing. Though nature is all around us, always. Perception’s tricky like that.
Chicago has quite the winter. As a kid I didn’t mind it, I knew no other way. But as I got older I started to despise it. I felt it was stealing away time, putting my life on pause. “When would things happen again? When could I go out and exist?”
In that line of thinking, my life has never been more on pause than now - with COVID-19. Yet I don’t feel paused. I feel alive. I feel active. I feel present.
This time has given me a window to experience the shifting state of my external world as it moves from a cold stricken space to a sun beaming town. Yet instead of wishing it another way, I am watching. I’ve had the opportunity to experience nature’s ticking without rushing about in a world disconnected from the very rhythms that guide all we know. The timely rhythms.
The idea of not being able to fully exist because of the external environment was one I had conditioned myself into believing through years of harsh winters. A belief I perpetuated and felt every winter season as I grew. It was a belief so strong that it made me feel I needed to live somewhere with temperatures that allowed for outdoor life year round.
I despised the resting period, generalizing an entire region as less worthy given my own interpretation of its life cycles.
And yet, I now see what a deep privilege it was to be in this space for all those years. To have developed the patience to allow nature to play itself out. To know that nature will play itself out. It always does.
To experience the shifting as a regular part of existence. To release control. To surrender. To trust that light will shine again.
These notions are ones I hold dear to my heart in these times of uncertainty. It may feel cold, even icy at times, in the ways we communicate and function at large. And yet I know that things defrost.
Just give it time. I know that the strength of nature’s power to survive and thrive is greater than any cold front floating through.
Patience.
The seasons change. Darkness fades into damp times that fuel the seeds with nutrients to grow into the light. Light fades and the seeds retreat, not fighting the darkness, but understanding that it too is part of life.
Ahooooo!
Thank you midwest, for teaching me. Holding me. Giving me an understanding that growth is imminent, just not always obvious.
And to my past self in the midwest...
Thank you. I love you. Please forgive me. I’m sorry
I love all your seasons of life.