Seasons
Falling leaves, snow on the horizon, sun in the sky, the seasons are changing and so am I…
The year is two months away from ending and I feel as though I’ve gone through a million lifetimes of seasons changing.
In a single week, even in just a day, I notice how my emotions and experiences flail like their drowning in the deep end of a pool, only to take flight and soar high like an enchanted bird suddenly sure of its course.
But the only thing I’m truly sure of is that this constant change, like that of seasons, remains unavoidable.
As I stare down the near-end of October with a jumble of ideas and worries and possibilities swirling in my mind, I’ve decided to take a little time to reflect on these seasons of mine…
Seasons of Certainty
I think this might be my favorite season ever.
It rolls around once, in what feels like, a blue moon—never staying too long and yet never staying long enough.
In Seasons of Certainty, I remember to put on my snow boots when I’m trudging through the aftermaths of a storm. I keep an umbrella on myself at all times, so when it rains I find my clothes dry. And the warmth of the sunlight, streaming from my bedroom window, puts a smile on my face and a peace in my heart.
Indeed, when I’m certain, everything makes more sense and I’m hardly ever ruled by fear. Anxiety sits in the backseat of a carriage ride as I gallop ahead on my noble white horse.
Yes, it’s all a metaphor.
But that’s a season of my life that I cherish: knowing what fairytale to dive into next, believing that someone will care when I hit submit (because that someone is me and that is more than enough). Delving deep into a soothing morning routine of shimmery lip gloss and my fave supermarket perfume and that splash of water on my face that wakes me up. Everything in order, and everything not in order willing to be put in its rightful place.
Oh, how I crave Seasons of Certainty, I’m sure you do to.
But I’m learning to cherish them for while they are here and stop beating myself up when they’re gone.
Because that’s the cycle isn’t it?
But tell me why *insert deep sigh* the next season never fails to escape me…and seems to always be around the corner every step I take...
Seasons of Doubt
Like a tennis ball to the forehead when you’re not looking forwards and you can’t seem to find your racket.
Slipping on a perfectly smooth floor…but like, thirty times in a row. Landing on your butt over and over again with broken glass on the floor. Pouring your second (or was it fourth?) cup of chamomile tea as your hands shake from the worry that things will never be okay.
And speaking of the word “okay”…how many times do you find yourself using that word in Seasons of Doubt? Well, I use it too often, along with its synonymous sister “fine.”
“I’m okay, it’ll be okay. It’s fine, whatever. Im fine.” I become the queen of deflection in public but I curl up behind a locked door; wasting away in stress and overwhelm and this heart wrenching, pesky belief that I’m failing, deeply failing, at everything.
Seasons are supposed to end. But when a Season of Doubt ends, it’s easy miss, ‘cause it feels like only a slither of time passes before it starts back up again. Ugh!!!
“Give me a break” I want to say. “Let me catch my breath. Let me take a seat and just be.” I mumble with tears in my eyes and a gnawing in my chest. Slowly, I begin to seek out the next season.
And this next season is one that requires my intentionality, knowing when I need it is crucial…
Seasons of Rest
It’s raining outside.
A thunderstorm rumbling the walls of my house and I’m sat in bed, blanket pulled to my chin as I take deep breaths. In a minute I’ll get up and flip open my journal to pour my heart out. Lay something down that has been too heavy to carry.
Maybe I’ll listen to friendly voices on TV later, maybe I’ll decided (wearily) that bedtime needs to come early for the next few days.
It’s always a push to embrace Seasons of Rest. I’m terrible at it even though I look for it all the time (perhaps even more than certainty).
I like to slow down. No, I love to slow down.
Seasons of Doubt might have me running a race I didn’t ask for. But if I’m being honest, I’ve always been a snail.
To take my time, to press pause and lie with my feet sticking out of the covers, letting the AC cool my toes;
I need it.
Sometimes it’s slowly addressing problems (on paper or out loud), coming up with a plan to act on later. But much later, because my eyes need to be shut, I need to comfort myself. Disappear into another world in a book if I can.
If you can guide yourself into a Season of Rest during the highest moments of doubt, please do so. It can give you a grounding space, irrespective of what tumultuous things are escalating within you.
Seasons of Doubt are draining as much as they are inevitable. Seasons of Rest, however, give energy and shift perspective.
When I find calm, heaven knows I can finally think! And not the ruminating kind of thinking; the thinking that comes with action. And action that paves a clear path forward, even with worries yapping away artlessly in the background.
With rest, I’m pulled into a new season. One of mixed emotions but with serious hope..
Seasons of Adventure
I’ve always loved the rain, it’s the most nostalgic part of Mother Nature (to me).
So I’m sad to see it go.
But the sun is shining outside and I’m ready to go out and break new ground.
I like that there are still puddles on the pavement, reminding me of the importance of restfulness as I dart onto that new path. I’m so hopeful—a new project, an idea unfurling like a fairy’s wing. “I can’t believe I’m doing it,” I whisper to myself excitedly, laughing. I’m scared but it’s different this time; the fear isn’t a crutch or a barricade. It’s behaving. My vision for the future is too sparkling for its dull eyes to see and pull my happiness from the spotlight.
SO I venture on. Thoughts like Is this going to work? Or Will I fall flat on my face? are much softer than the resounding: “AHHHH this is so cool! What will happen next? The time has really come hasn’t it?!”
It really has come: The time of taking leaps of faith and seeing where I land. It’s a time of trial and error—because if I don’t like the apple pie, I’ll try the blackberry currant. And if I don’t like the blackberry currant, I’ll try the red velvet cake. And imagine if the red velvet is the one?! Maybe I’ll find something like treasure beneath its thick pink frosting! Something sparkling that will become part of my story, and bring me a new sense of direction. An assuredness that anything is possible and that magic was always, always real.
Adventure has a funny way of turning things around, don’t you think? Of bringing you an answer you didn’t know you were searching for. I suppose it won’t be long now, till I find myself in the Seasons of Certainty once again. And what a pleasant, welcoming surprise that will be.
I don’t know how the seasons of your life play out, fellow magical girl. Perhaps you start at doubt and go straight into adventure and cushion your fall with the season of rest. Maybe it’s a completely different order.
I do think it probably has found a different order in my life at some points.
Still, when the thought of this essay came up it made me smile—look at me, trying to attempt to decipher life with all its topsy turviness. I dont know if I got it 100% right but I feel connected to this cadence. To this pattern of my seasons. It’s a reflection of my experiences.
It also gives me hope; something to hold on to when I feel my spirit deflating under the weight of happenstance and cruel intentions.
You see, more than wanting to be “strong” and able to handle anything and everything all the time…I want to understand myself and the paths I choose. I want to listen to my heart and to what I need. All the while remembering that seasons will change.
And that I, a fairy mid-flight, will find my magic, my hope, my adventure, and my sense of certainty, again and again.
And brighter they will become, season by season.
Stay hopeful.
with love in all things,
Anastasia
