on seasons

It’s been unseasonably warm this spring. Instead of the expected rain, sunshine emerged with the cherry blossoms and has stuck around long after those petals fell and other plants have started to bloom.

It wasn’t the worst winter, but it wasn’t a pleasant one either. I’ve been overcommitted, hibernating when I have free time, and dealing with Big Decisions, dealing with endings that have happened and some that are still planned.

Summer is coming, and I am glad for it. I am glad for seasons arriving, but sometimes even more for their passing.

You’ve heard that old passage from a wise man:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

I have been a while in a cold season of mourning, searching, tearing, silence. It is not the season I would have chosen, but I am becoming lighter and freer for its presence.

When I speak out of this winter, I find my words aren’t gentle. I find the heaviness still in my heart weighs down my efforts to be balanced and well.

But when I speak out of this winter, under-kind and over-frank, the dead leaves are scattered, the mud scraped away, and I can see new growth.

There are blossoms budding in the trees and seeds sprouting in my heart. 

There is a time to be angry and a time to move on. A time to endure, a time to enjoy. A time to think, a time to rethink. A time to laugh, dance, mend, and speak, as things are made beautiful in their time.

Summer is coming. I am letting go of the season that has been and moving toward the sun.


  1. rockomnibus · · Reply

    That’s equally poetic and poignant. This sounds like the opening to a great novel, in fact. Solace to the protagonist…

    1. Ha, well I have been looking for that opening to my future hypothetical Great American Novel…

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