Spring has been an under-appreciated season in my experience. I never had a reason to truly long for it in the same ways a child longs for summer break from school, or the way a heart longs for closeness and connection that fall often brings. And while I never professed to like winter, in the aftermath of my divorce and during the height of my mental and emotional burnout I found solace in the silence and solitude that winter provides.
Winter became my hiding place. My resting place. While the rest of my life was sustained and perpetuated by a cycle of “hustle” and “hurry” my body eventually began to show signs of exhaustion. So naturally, I would retreat during times of heaviness, and malaise would eventually befall me after pushing myself too far too long.
As the weight of the world would lay heavy on my shoulders I could feel it in my bones. That “born tired” familiar exhaustion that can only be inherited from a line of familial trauma. My ancestors worked tirelessly to ensure I had a hopeful future and those hopes and dreams live within me, calling me forward… compelling me to keep moving…
But what about REST?
When was the last time you rested? Can you even remember what rest feels like?
The hustle, while often glorified, contrastingly the struggle is never justified.
We are constantly as humans, being asked to do more, produce more, consume more, but what about REST?
We haven’t been taught to seek and employ rest as part of our daily ritual.
Instead, we’re rewarded for our accomplishments and contributions at the expense of our individual agency, rather than being supported in knowing and deciding for ourselves what we need, how much, and how often.
Rest is no more a reward than busy is a sign of significance.
Has rest just been conceptualized to include practices of indulgence and supported by consumerism in an uneven exchange for an idea of rest that we feel must be earned by the most deserving?
If you’re anything like me, your idea of rest consists of acts of indulgence in the name of self-care. You employ various practices that appear to be rest but under the surface are just more boxes to check on your to-do-list. Still tied to a need to feel “accomplished” wellness becomes one more thing to do, instead of an invitation to simply be.
When was the last time you did something out of pure enjoyment? The last time you learned a new skill? The last moment you discovered something new about yourself?
As the ground breaks to make way for budding life, and the sun sheds light on the newness that comes with spring, I am finding myself lingering more…
I’m taking time to breath the smell of freshness of the morning air. To feel the coldness of dew between my toes while walking barefoot to collect my mail.
I am leaning into the slow mornings my life has allowed, waking spontaneously without an alarm or agenda. I’m scheduling in more un-planned time for spontaneity and play.
In making space for me to move intuitively I’ve discovered a fresh perspective on spring
No longer is it just a shoulder season; a buffer between winter and summer… Spring is becoming a transitional resting place, where hibernation evolves into awakening.
Awakening to self-exploration and discovery.
Awakening to the newness of grace bestowed upon me daily, yet hardly acknowledged within me.
So today, I choose. I choose to encounter Abba’s grace with the delight of a child. To embrace my current reality and capacity therein to be fully present and in-joy being in the present moment.
I choose to take up space, in the same way new life opens up at the gentle coaxing of the sun, “Awaken little one. Winter is over.”
We are long overdue for a time of transition. You’ve been long owed permission to pivot and to redefine what rest means to you.
I am often inspired by nature and the cyclical ways in which it exists, transforms, rests, and resets.
It is often said that we are creatures of habit. I desire instead to be a being with rituals. Thoughtfully curating my life and experiences with intention and consideration rather than perpetuating learned behaviors unquestionably; many of which are later found to be harmful or no longer serves me well.
After all, are we truly alive if we aren’t given permission to evolve and take up space?
Consider this an open invitation to unfold. To re-introduce the notion of play and curiosity. To get comfortable being a novice again without the added pressure to be “good”.
I think spring is nature’s way of showing its humor. Of all the seasons it is the most predictably unpredictable in terms of weather in that a single day could call for an umbrella to shield you from the morning rain, while the afternoon provides a break of sunlight between clouds which eludes to remnants of a rainbow.
I’d like to know your thoughts. Do you enjoy the spring time? What are your favorite ways to practice rest?
Optional journal prompts to facilitate further discovery:
What is my definition of rest? In what ways do I notice my body calling for rest? What barriers do I experience with incorporating restful practices within my life? What narratives and limiting beliefs have I been taught regarding rest? What feels most honoring to me in taking time for rest?
Gardening and baking!!! I enjoy doing something and seeing the result but knowing that nobody will appreciate it like me. Anxiety makes it easier for me to rest while doing things.
P.s. I enjoyed this.
I’m a spring baby so by default, I told myself I should love spring time. However, my allergies would tell you differently. I honestly don’t feel I connect to any one season. I do find that my depression is more at bay during sunnier days but yet it doesn’t make me want to dive in like one may think. Instead I tend to rest and stay out the way. Rest for me is literally a day to day thing currently. Some days it’s a 3 hour nap and others days it’s roller skating to good music for a hour or longer. Time tends to disappear when I rest in ways that recharge me. Cooking, Netflixing, creating, or just chilling with my girls...it’s all rest and it’s all necessary!