In many parts of the world, four times a year nature offers a physical reminder of seasonal change (and the fact that we have little control over it). Leaves fall, snow settles, flowers bloom, the earth dries.
I think I find comfort in the fact that our lives too seem to have different seasons because it makes some sense of having to let go as things inevitably change. This is especially true when you didn’t expect to see a season come to an end.
And what about when it seems easier if things just stayed the same? Whether consciously or not, many of us fight so hard to maintain the way things are… or even worse, cling to the way things were.
We’ve been living through a time in history though, of crisis & pandemic, that has really taken it out of our hands. There ain’t no ‘same’ and things are not the ‘way they were.’
Kinda like the way the leaves drop in the autumn.
In the midst of the crisis, so many things have fallen away.
Sometimes it looks to me like a whole lot of people have spent a whole lot of energy desperately trying to sweep those fallen things up and stash them away. What if we’ve missed the opportunity to see the piles on the ground and recall the fact that fallen leaves nurture the soil for the spring that will eventually come?
We know though that winter comes before spring… long nights, grey skies, wind & rain & storms that never seem like they’ll let up. And yeah, I’m being metaphorical about the seasons in our lives that feel like winter. There ain’t a lotta light sometimes, hey?
We’re emerging out of winter and into spring in Aotearoa at the moment.
I’m hoping the physical seasonal change will signal a move out of the metaphorical winter that I feel has been experiencing for a little while now.
I’m hoping that things that have felt dormant will move into a new life.
That it’ll feel safe to emerge from a hibernation of sorts.
Julia Samuels, author of This Too Shall Pass*, wrote that “one thing is certain: we need to adapt in order to grow through” change.
*I would highly recommend this book, exploring the reality of change in our lives. The author illustrates the various changes one might experience throughout a lifetime through the stories of various clients she has journeyed with as a psychotherapist.
We know though that winter comes before spring… long nights, grey skies, wind & rain & storms that never seem like they’ll let up. And yeah, I’m being metaphorical about the seasons in our lives that feel like winter. There ain’t a lotta light sometimes, hey?
We’re emerging out of winter and into spring in Aotearoa at the moment.
I’m hoping the physical seasonal change will signal a move out of the metaphorical winter that I feel has been experiencing for a little while now.
I’m hoping that things that have felt dormant will move into a new life.
That it’ll feel safe to emerge from a hibernation of sorts.
Julia Samuels, author of This Too Shall Pass*, wrote that “one thing is certain: we need to adapt in order to grow through” change.
*I would highly recommend this book, exploring the reality of change in our lives. The author illustrates the various changes one might experience throughout a lifetime through the stories of various clients she has journeyed with as a psychotherapist.
So, change is inevitable and the choice is ours about whether we accept and engage with it, or resist and avoid it.
Just like the coastlines that stretch their way across our country – the lines where land meets water – life is constantly changing and reshaping.
In the case of the coastline, the nonstop wave action means nothing ever stays the same. Waves gnaw away at cliffs, shift sand back and forward, build walls, and sculpt bays. Even the gentlest of ripples constantly reshape coastlines in small, tiny ways—a few grains of sand at a time. The same can be seen to be true in our life too.
The strongest relationships are those where both individuals are able to change. Where they can accept and love each other through the ebb + flow of those changes.
Sometimes though, when you grow & change, other people aren’t willing to embrace those shifts in you.
Someone I find to be source of wisdom said to me that often people don’t like it when you change, because it causes them to engage with their own fear of changing themselves. They see you growing & changing and their resistance to that can build up walls between you. And that’s hard. It’s hard to let go of who you think you have to be in order to belong. But it’s also okay to outgrow things too.
Taking the cue from the crab.
Hermit crabs have to change shells when they outgrow them. At any time, they’re actually just borrowing the shells that they live in. Eventually, as they grow, they have to choose courage and accept vulnerability as they venture out into a new home.
It is natural for us to want to know where we belong and to feel safe and secure. The reality of life though is that we do outgrow things sometimes and we have to move with the change. There is a lot of evidence to say that the more able we are to be psychologically flexible, the more able we will be to face the vulnerability of change. If that is the case, the better off we will be.
So, let’s be open to what the new abode might be like. The challenge is to embrace change, in our circumstances, in the world around us, in ourselves and in the people closest to us.