To Everything There is a Season
I am definitely a person who is moved by the seasons. I find the movement of time freeing, I love the aesthetics of seasonal changes, the symbolic meaning of cycles, of life-death-rebirth, of moon flow. If humans are always in flux, there is something deep within me that feels a hope in the changing seasons.
Even if it’s winter, spring will come. Even if there is abundance, there is also a time for lying fallow, for rest. If there is a time for all things, it means where I am, wherever I am, is okay. It means if I lie on the couch—in the nook in my apartment, windows on three sides, wide open—and feel overwhelming bliss from the feel of the warm spring breeze over my skin, it is where I am, and that is sufficient. It also means that if my life is an absolute train wreck, and I spent the last week on that same couch, crying at cat videos on Youtube, that is also where I am, and that is sufficient.
Which is not to say that means that our needs always get met. That change isn’t necessary. It doesn’t mean that all behavior is acceptable all the time. It doesn’t mean that things are good, or that we can’t want change to happen (and, faster, please!), or that we should be content in whatever situation we find ourselves. But, I don’t know about you, but I have this terrible habit of conflating where I am with who I am. And that is a dirty, dirty lie.
So, in honor of the practice of self-compassion, and of meeting myself where I am, here are some words from Ecclesiastes. Kind of.
To everything there is a season, a time for every matter under heaven,
a time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to harvest,
A time to be a hot mess, a time to get your shit together,
A time to see what good lives in the world, a time to rage against the machine
A time to hug, a time to be hugged
A time to laugh, and a time to cry,
A time to build up, a time to burn it down,
A time to be strong as hell, a time to have nothing to offer,
A time to forgive others, a time to forgive yourself,
A time to sit down, a time to stand up,
A time to hold, a time to let go,
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
There is nothing new under the sun. Let us be sufficient, in whatever season we currently reside.