Last week, I shared about the tail end of winter… that tender, in-between space where we feel the pull to rise but may still be tangled in the remnants of what surfaced in the dark. I wrote about how winter draws us inward, asking us to descend, to feel, to rest, to remember.

And now… I’m feeling the bubbling energy of spring.

The light is coming back. The air is beginning to change. Birds are louder. The snow is melting.
There’s a momentum building… not just outside, but inside of me too.

But there’s something I didn’t expect this year… For the first time that I can remember, I’m actually feeling resistance to the spring and summer energy.

Usually, this is the time when I feel hopeful. Excited. Recharged. But this year? That familiar hope has been replaced with a kind of hopelessness.

So much has changed. So much has unraveled.
And though I trust the process… I can feel how different this year will be. There’s some sadness in that. Some fear. Some shakiness in the not-knowing.

The final days of winter always feel like a whisper between worlds. The quiet before the great unfurling. The air holds a certain stillness, as if the earth itself is taking a deep inhale before the rush of spring’s arrival.

This year, though, the air feels different. The world feels different. So much is shifting, unraveling, breaking open in ways we never expected. Uncertainty hums beneath the surface of so many conversations, so many hearts. And yet—beneath it all, there is something steady. Something unshaken. Something waiting to be remembered.

Not long ago, science justified barbaric practices—lobotomies, toxic medical interventions, and procedures now deemed cruel and primitive. We look back in disbelief, yet refuse to acknowledge that today’s 'accepted science' may one day be met with the same scrutiny. Why do we cling so desperately to the illusion of certainty? Is it because in a world where power is hoarded and profit dictates research outcomes, questioning the narrative feels dangerous

What I’ve discovered is this: what you seek, you already have. But to truly access it, you must be willing to journey into the very places you’ve spent your life avoiding. You must dive into your wounds, your fears, and the dark corners of your being that you’ve hidden from. This is why so few people embark on the path of true self-discovery. It’s not easy. It’s not comfortable. And it will ask you to let go of everything you thought you needed.

2024 was a year of purification, a distillation of what truly matters. It burned away illusions and left me with clarity—about who I am, what I value, and how I want to move through this world. Through this refining process, I’ve become so clear that as I move forward into the next year and beyond, I will shape my actions to walk in the deepest integrity and coherence available to me. I am committed to aligning what I think, feel, and do—to living in a way where my heart, mind, and actions resonate as one.

 Winter strips everything back to its essence. Trees let go of their leaves, not because they’re dying, but because they’re preparing for something new. The earth rests under a blanket of snow, conserving energy for the burst of life that will come in spring.

I understand how challenging it is to fully surrender to Grace. I’ve often wanted to (and do) cling to the edge of the cliff of suffering a moment longer because the full trust fall seems too scary. Yet, I’m finding moments of this free fall to be absolutely liberating, revealing glimpses of its potency. I haven’t fully cut the cord yet, but I’m aware of it and willing to cut it all the way—to fully fall into Grace and let go because I deeply feel it’s the only way to true freedom. 

On a spiritual journey of healing, you’ll often hear over and again to simply "let go." Let go of what’s not serving you, what’s not aligned with your true self, of persona, and expectations. Just let go.

While I know this all to be true, I’ve also found it’s not as easy as these two simple words may suggest. In my experience, letting go is one of the most challenging spiritual practices you will be presented with. Letting go means coming face to face with your wounds, programming, trauma and circumstances that have built your false sense of security and attachment... These walls you so diligently built through your perception of safety at a time you felt your most vulnerable.

I stood under a small awning, attempting to stay dry as the rain increased in intensity, tears welled in my eyes and for a moment it felt as if the whole world was crying with me. But this time they weren’t tears of sadness… to which I’ve grown so accustomed to… but tears of celebration. Celebration for the absolute contentment I was experiencing at every level of my being.

It is said that one must die before they die again and again in order to truly live… to truly evolve, grow and learn within this life. To die before you die is to be brought back to your purity… brought closer to your essence, free from the false layers of personhood.