Navigating the seasons of life
When I look back on my life, I can clearly see how time is punctuated by different chapters. The romance and freedom of a barefoot childhood. The angery, angst-fuelled teenage years. The anxiety of post secondary studies. The long goodbye of my father’s terminal illness. The extreme focus of my professional youth.
At the time, each of these former selves would have believed that the state they were in, was the one that would exist forever.
The child thought time would always be limitless.
The teenager thought I’d always be questioning and angry.
The twenty-something year old thought I’d be bound by grief for eternity.
And the thirty year old thought I’d forever have extreme drive and focus singularly applied to work and work alone.
And yet, here I am, in a new chapter, with a softened heart and the resolve of a two-time mother, caught in the all consuming dance of trying to hold onto the magic of each day while letting the frustration go.
And now I know,
Time is limited.
I am much more compassionate.
The grief comes in waves with longer stretches in between.
My personal and professional drive and focus has changed to balance with a more holistic view of life.
My life has expanded and pivoted in unexpected, challenging and wonderful ways. While I would have previously feared change, now I know that I am resilient enough to manage.
I like this version of me. In some ways, I feel as though I’ve arrived, even though I know that the evolution of who we are and how we show up never stops changing and reshaping us.
So while I like to imagine that this is ‘permanently me’ now, I know that this thing we called life is much more malleable. More flexible. And likely to ebb and flow in and out of our control. Like the seasons.
The Concept of The Seasons of Life
A little while ago, I became aware of the concept of ‘different seasons of life,’ and I haven’t been able to let it go since.
It just makes sense. At any given time, if I pause and reflect, it becomes apparent to me which season I’m in:
The quiet, reflective fall, a time of learning and cosiness.
The standstill of a frozen winter and the deep rest it demands.
The hope and rejuvenation of spring, turbulent but filled with promise.
The relaxation and gratitude of summer, with its nourishing warmth and ongoing harvest.
But as much as this concept is about the vibe, it’s also about the fleeting nature of the seasons too.
It doesn’t matter any longer how I feel about where I am in life in that moment.
No matter the season, I connect with the realisation that it’s all temporary, and it gives me permission to live fully in the moment that I’m in. And that sense of permission is beautiful.
Permission to Be Where You Are
I really hate it when someone sees me struggling to wrangle my kids (at the park… on the street… in the store, etc) and says “Enjoy it, it goes so fast.”
There’s a guilt in that sentiment that denies the struggle of where you’re at.
I wish someone would stop and say, “It won’t always be this way. You’re doing a great job.”
Sometimes you just need acknowledgement of where you are.
I find that instead of worrying about inevitable change, when you instead reflect on the point in time that you’re in, acknowledge that it will change (and that’s ok), and that you’re doing the best you can under the circumstances allows you to pull away from the intensity of whatever you’re feeling. Lifts you above it, for a while.
So, wherever you are, you are doing the best you can.
It may not be what you pictured, or what you hoped for, but you’re doing the necessary work for the season, and ahead of you is another evolution, filled with a new promise and a different pace.
For those who are weathering the winter
Is it just me, or is winter, hands down, the toughest of the lot? If you’re in this season of life, I can’t help but feel for my wintertime friends.
It sucks to feel frozen. To feel like there are no options. That what you want to execute on just can’t be actioned. That you have to wait…seemingly forever.
I see you. I feel you. I have been you, and I will be you again because this seasons come and go. Even winter doesn’t stay that way forever.
But while you’re here know that in this season you are being called to rest and prioritise self-care. Release yourself from high expectations. Light a candle. Call a friend, a family member, a colleague, a therapist. Pet your animals. Write, including writing a list of what you can control and influence.
Jot down all the options for forward movement, even if they’re wild and out of reach. Sometimes it can feel incredibly nice to see any option, laid out before you. It’s a reminder that other paths and options exist, even if they’re not here, yet.