The Final Days of Winter
We are in the final days of winter… just a breath away from the arrival of spring. This transition isn’t just about warmer weather or longer days; it’s a shift in energy, a stirring deep within nature and within us.
In Chinese Medicine’s, spring is governed by the Wood element, representing growth, expansion, and the energy of becoming. Just as trees begin to bloom and new shoots break through the earth, we, too, feel the urge to move, to create, to evolve. It’s a season of rebirth, an opportunity to align with the natural momentum of life and step into the next version of ourselves.
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 lingers 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.
So much of life right now feels like the wind… strong, unpredictable, pushing us in directions we never anticipated. The unknowns, the upheavals, the moments that make us question everything. But what if all these unknowns and instability are simply pointing us to the most important truth… that TRUE stability isn't in the external world, but found deep within our own connection to ourselves and nature? What if this isn't a demise but a true rebirth that invites opportunity instead of fear? What if the very chaos we resist is actually the fertile ground for new life? How can we begin to recognize the blossoming that is beckoning us to change our thinking and our relating?
The deeper we root down into the earth, into our connection with nature, into the natural flow of life… the more true stability we find. It’s not in clinging to what was or trying to predict what will be. It’s in remembering that we are designed to move with the winds, not against them.
Winter has been a season of quiet, of reflection, of waiting. And now, as spring approaches, there’s a stirring inside of me… a deep knowing that it’s time to rise, to stretch toward the light, to trust in the process of remembering and rebirth.
But I don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to force my way into the next chapter just because the calendar says spring is near. Instead, I’m taking these last days of winter to listen. To feel. To allow the energy of renewal to move through me, rather than trying to control it. Because true transformation doesn’t come from simply deciding to change; it comes from anchoring into who we already are, from nurturing the roots that have always been there.
Spring is not just a season; it’s an invitation. To trust. To expand. To find movement in stillness and stillness in movement. To remember that we are not separate from nature—we are nature. And just like the trees, we will know when it’s time to bloom.
With love,
