Part 1: Seasons

I am about to embark on the journey of a lifetime and as I return to a terrain of winter, a season I have not encountered in almost a year, it returns me to the promise of rest. The promise of untapped potential holding off in the cold and ice, skilfully waiting for the moment to bloom, or to sprout. Not dancing impatiently but taking the wind between its nakedness; letting branches break and stems shrivel because it knows it would be futile to fight. This is not, however, a battle. It may look like nature is losing to nature, animals in stillness and flowers defeated; it is but a lesson that nature receives openly.

I too have felt the season of winter, albeit very unsteadily. I have shaky legs, refusing to feel the rivers flow within my vessels and moving rigidly against the still. But the lesson forces itself onto me: there is so much beauty in the nakedness. Just as the world strips its trees bare. At first I couldn’t stand it but I, too, deserve to rest and not show up in the ways that please others. Rather, I am entitled to the fullness of my being. Mother Nature is serving something omniscient - beyond each and every one of us - and my youthful demand for the decorative, artificial beauties will never be enough to will one, year long summer. Well… unless I live in Kenya.

Otherwise, it is just futile. So much of my energy put into willing some unrealistic state of unending hyper-productivity into existence. An existence that is only true for a couple seasons in the year. The more I think about it, the sillier it seems. I am swimming against this monstrous current that will, at some point, change anyway. My powers and energy are wasted on a superior force yelling at me to be still and hibernate. Listen to the world around me. Sow in order to reap. Nature is actively teaching me a lesson. The expanse of this universe so patiently wills me to just sit down and learn from it. Forever may I remain its student.