Over the past few articles, we’ve explored transition through the picture of a garden—sowing seeds, cultivating the soil, growing beneath the surface, pruning, and harvesting.
Holding all of these together is one simple truth: There are seasons. And so do we.
There is a time for planting, waiting, growing, pruning, harvesting, and beginning again. We wouldn't walk into a garden in winter and wonder why there isn't a harvest. We understand that winter has a different purpose.
Yet we can be hard on ourselves when we're in a season of waiting, rest, loss, or beginning again.
What if instead we asked:
What does this season need from me?
Maybe it needs patience.
Maybe courage.
Maybe rest.
Maybe grief.
Maybe exploration or action.
Sometimes we want growth when we're being invited to rest.
We want answers when we need to sit with the questions.
We want to harvest when the seeds have barely been planted.
Transition becomes exhausting when we constantly fight against the season we're in. Instead, consider what is yours to tend—and what you need to release. We can participate in the process without trying to control the timing or the outcome.
A season of uncertainty can feel endless. A season of grief can feel like it will never lift. But seasons change. Sometimes the shift happens so gradually that we don't notice until we look back and realize, I'm not where I was.
Your perspective has changed.
Your heart feels lighter.
You have new energy.
You are curious again.
The season has changed.
One garden may be blooming while another is still putting down roots. Neither is behind. They are simply in different seasons.
The same is true for us. Someone else may be starting something new while you are grieving an ending. Someone else may be harvesting while you are still waiting. You cannot measure your season by someone else's calendar.
Instead of only asking, “When will this season end?”, ask: “What is this season growing in me?”
What are you learning?
What are you releasing?
What is becoming clearer?
What is being strengthened?
Every season leaves something with us—even the difficult and unexpected ones.
So if you find yourself in transition, take a breath.
You don't have to rush.
You don't have to have everything figured out.
Trust that seasons change.
Trust that growth can happen slowly.
And trust that even when you can't see what is happening beneath the surface, something may still be taking root.
You don't have to rush through the season you're in to get to the season you're hoping for. There is something here for you, too.

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