The Slow Season
I know a guy named Simon who hates the winter.
He owns properties in the Northern and Southern hemispheres of the world, so he’s able to chase the summer year-round and live where the weather’s best.
In March he’s crushing grapes and making wine on his farm in Chile when the lakes are still frozen in the Midwest.
In July when his farm is cold and damp, he’s roaming the sunny hills of Italy or spending time poolside with his parents in Texas.
He’s structured his entire life to avoid winter and embrace summer.
Simon is an inspiring guy, but I think he’s missing out on something important by manipulating life’s natural rhythm.
In Northern California where I live, it’s autumn right now.
This is a season that brings dormancy and death and hints at the cold winter ahead, but ironically it’s a time when I feel most alive.
It’s an honest season that sheds the superficial and speaks to some deeper truth, a time when leaves lose their color and stop clinging to the trees that give them life.
Fall is when nature stops toiling and goes to sleep.
Likewise, I tend to slow down this time of year and lose my ambition.
Instead of clinging to the idea that I perpetually have to produce more and more, I enter a period of rest and renewal.
I give myself permission to take a break, sit by the fire, be with my family, and saunter around.
Like Simon, it’s tempting to avoid the winter and live where the weather’s best, but eventually we have to let the summer recede and embrace the natural cycle of life.
Embracing a slow season reminds us that life is more than just what we make or how much we can produce, but rather what is being produced in us.