Seasons

The omnipresence of change

Seasons change. As sure as the moon orbits the earth and the tides wash in and out, so certain is the changing of the seasons.

There is no switch however; that we can flick, or line that we can cross that signals this change. Instead we have a gradual passing of time and the sloth-like stroll of transformation which we only notice once it reaches a certain point. Like when the once emerald forests are suddenly ablaze with autumn reds, oranges and purples or when the summer lush tree has shed its leaves and reaches its stark bare limbs to the sky. Then only do we truly understand that a new season has arrived and that life is unfolding as it always does.

We all know that seasons don’t only mark a passing of time.

They mark a passing from one experience of life into another.

There are seasons of plenty, seasons of famine, seasons of sorrow, seasons of joy, seasons of growth, seasons of stagnation, seasons of loss, seasons of birth, seasons of love, seasons of anger, there is a season for every now in which we find ourselves.

The only thing certain about a season is its impermanence. There is no eternal summer just as there is no unending winter. We can never exist in one experience of life or in one season of life indefinitely. Life happens and life goes on, two constants that will propel us from one season to the next.

There are times when a season feels like it is stretching beyond itself, imposing itself onto the expected season next to come, lengthening our experience of it. There isn’t much we can do to hasten the coming or the going of a season if we choose to simply meander along with it, allowing it to take us where it may. The only way to move purposefully and deliberately from one season to the next is to will it. To know your destination, to know your expectations of yourself and what you want out of this journey, this is the only way to take control of your experience and move through.

There is such a wonder the first time we become conscious that we have transitioned from one season into the next, we marvel at the newness of the experience, whatever the experience might be. However, marvel soon turns into complacence, complacence into indifference and then indifference into impatience and so we start anticipating the season that lies ahead.

Unlike the natural seasons that change the earth around us, seasons in our life cannot change or grow us without our consent, just like no season can hold us captive without our willing submission. Every aspect of our experience of life and the changes that new seasons offer are within our total and absolute control. We choose to extract every possibility from every season just like nature leverages each new opportunity for growth or we choose to squander this season in anticipation of the next.

Regardless of our actions or inactions, seasons come and seasons go. Our choice is simply to throw ourselves at whatever season we’re in and extract every last ounce of marrow form it, or to slumber through it, dreaming of what could be or should have been.