Returning to Self

As I look out the window, I find myself wondering if Spring is truly here or is she still quietly waiting in the background. The snow has melted, the birds have returned with their chatter again and the days are stretching a little longer. The seasons are shifting, as they always do. Spring in her own way arrives as a season of renewal, of growth and of beginning again.

What I wish to share with you about Spring is not through rose-colored glasses. It is through the possibilities that she offers us, if we choose to step into it. It doesn't matter if you've been in the stillness of winter for a few months or for many years. There are times in life when everything feels uncertain. When we question who we are, why we're here and whether our life has meaning at all. Times when we find ourselves in what some call the dark night of the soul.

And yet, even in that darkness, there is always a sliver of hope. It can be hard to see, especially when we are caught in the cycles of self-blame, self-judgment, or the quiet ways we begin to turn against ourselves. In those moments, I know, it can feel nearly impossible to be gentle with ourselves, to offer ourselves the same grace we so freely give to others.

There is always a way back. And there is something about spring that makes that return feel just a little more possible. She reminds us that nothing stays frozen forever. Life continues to move, even beneath the surface. That what feels dormant is not gone, it's only waiting

It is the season that invites us to loosen our grip on the versions of ourselves shaped by others’ perceptions, by past hurts, by moments that do not define the whole of who we are

Spring is a season that invites us to begin again. To rebuild. To reimagine. To step, even gently, toward a life we want to grow into.

There have been seasons in my own life where Winter did not follow the calendar.

Years where grief, loss, and uncertainty lingered longer than I expected. Times when I questioned who I was, how I had arrived there, and whether I would find my way back to something that felt steady again. And moments where I allowed the voices of others, how they saw me, what they believed about me, to shape how I saw myself.

Slowly, over time, I began to see that those voices were not mine to carry. That even in the moments of betrayal and hurt, there was still something within me that had not been totally lost. Something steady and true.

Rebuilding does not happen, all at once. It happens in small, often quiet ways. In choosing to think a little differently. Allowing a bit more space where there once was tightness. Breathing a bit deeper where once it was swallow. It is in remembering who I am is not defined by the hardest moments that I lived through, or by the story’s others choose to tell about me.

And maybe that is what this season is offering. Not a complete transformation overnight, but more of an opening. A place to begin again, with a little more awareness, a little more care, and a willingness to move forward, one step at a time, one breath at a time.

Because darkness, in any amount, can dim the light within us. What darkness cannot do is erase that light deep within. That quiet, steady spark always remains, flickering, waiting to be fueled again.

So, if you find yourself in a place where things have felt heavy, uncertain or dim, let spring be your reminder to step outside. To breathe in the air. To notice the light and just simply listen to the world waking up.

This, my friend, is the shift. It is the opening and it is the sliver of hope. And change, in its own time, always comes.

As we move into Spring may you find your own quiet way of beginning again. And remember, Spring does not ask for perfection; only a willingness to begin.

With care and gratitude,
Sage