Here in the Arizona desert, I marvel this time of year at how seasons vary in different regions, even within our state. After living in temperate climates most of my life, it's still a little surreal to me that we are retreating inside more as most of you are heading outside. (As someone who has lived in both worlds, I prefer a pleasant rest of the year, so I am not complaining.)
At the start of every season, I tend to go into my own mini-season of nesting, where my desires and focus shift to all things family, hearth and home. (Okay, maybe swimming pool and home!) Whether it's biological instinct or attunement with the cycles of nature, or both, this shift will never cease to intrigue me. I also experience seasons within my work: writing, speaking, teaching, or laser-focus on my daily work with Spirit and clients. An inner shift leads me into the new season or mini-season as if it is intuitive/Spirit-led, and my mindset/passion/focus begins to naturally shift into the work I am heading into. This has taught me to trust my feelings and intuition even more.
I've learned to go with all of the mini-seasons in life and service, understanding that the greatest work and healing will result from that which my passion and focus is aligned with, whatever present moment I am in.
One thing remains consistent: I never lose my passion for private sessions and being a channel of healing in this most intimate way. Some may call it a specialty, but I see this as the persistent work my soul must long for, is called to, and is most fulfilled by. Like eating and drinking, I crave these connections after a break, even after a much-needed respite from the same work.
No matter how perfectly we are aligned with our soul's work and life path, needing seasons or mini-seasons is part of the whole-self package deal. Whether it's just a regular weekend, an anticipated vacation, or a sabbatical due to a larger energetic focus we need for something else going on in our lives, we thrive living seasonally.
As you read this, seasons and mini-seasons of your own life may come to mind. Our challenge is that we live in a society that fixates on routines and schedules, so much so that we may resist the seasons our soul wants to guide us into. We may become frustrated that we do not stay on auto-pilot, yet it is only by honoring the seasons our soul wants to guides us into that we will be content.
I have also experienced seasons of grief. I lived through a long, dark winter. For months after my son died, I was too exhausted to stay up after the sun went down. Yet, I also delighted in the unexpected joy of coming upon a burst of color and seeing with new eyes, as if the world had been black and white and suddenly turned technicolor, just when I thought the winter would never end.
Like the physical season, my spring of grief was up and down, cool and warm. My winter of mourning exhausted me, and the ups and downs of my grief-spring exhausted me. My vibration and energy shifted wildly, often within a single day. But the rays of sunshine were all the more welcomed because they followed the showers. The blooms were more spectacular after they had been absent for so long.
I even found myself in a smooth sailing summertime, though I wouldn't have believed that was possible not long before! Yet, thunderstorms thrive in summer conditions and come upon us unexpectedly. A storm's force can shock us and produce devastation. Like nature, seasons of grief are not linear. The summer storms may knock us over, but in the winter, unexpected sunny days reveal hope. We can't have one without the other. This earth life is a package deal.
If you are reading this while in a long, dark winter, I hope this reminds you to allow for those unexpectedly sunny and warm days of respite. Let them recharge you. They will surprise you and infuse you with hope, giving you the strength to endure. If you're enjoying a summer that you thought you'd never see again, don't let a day or few of thunderstorms keep you down. Remember that summer storms are temporary. You haven't regressed, you are allowing. Allowing is healing.
True happiness isn't sunny days and ice cream, anyway. True happiness is a deep, inner peace that results from allowance. Allowance of it all: the many seasons and the mini-seasons. A truly happy life is a life well-lived. A life well-lived allows for the storms to drench us and the sun to shine upon us.
My life certainly hasn't been free of storms, but it's been full of rainbows. Is there a life better lived?
Wishing you love. And rainbows.