Entering a Season of Transition

Transition.

The word transition carries so many meanings for each of us. As I write, I am mindful of the transition of seasons, from the bitter cold of winter to the new life coming forth in spring.

I am reminded of a recent trip I took during the spring equinox. For this particular trip, I spent a weekend off the grid in the forest. It was a sacred place where I embraced a slower pace to witness how our bodies respond to nature. In the forest, one can hear the birds singing and the trees rustling with the dawning of each new day.

During my visit, I found myself connecting to the solitude of a gentle walk on a long and winding path. No rush, no pressure. It was as if time stood still as I listened to the seemingly loud crunch of leaves beneath me—remnants of what had fallen away during the winter months. Then my gaze shifted upward to the very same tree where small buds were beginning to form—new life emerging.

How can it be that on the same tree, something has fallen away while something new is being born? The death of one thing, and the birthing of another? In that moment I was reminded of the life cycle and how important it is for some things to fall away so new things can be birthed. 

As I continued walking, I noticed pinecones hanging from the branches—some large and mature, others small and newly formed, as if they had just come into being. Again, I was struck by the coexistence of different stages of life on the same tree.

Eventually, I came to a bridge. Standing on one side, I became aware that crossing over would mark a transition—from one side of the river to the other. It required movement, intention, and a willingness to leave one place to step into another.

It felt like a reflection of life itself.

As we move through seasons—both in nature and within our own lives—I find myself wondering about the season you may be in right now. For some, this may feel like spring—a time of new growth, fresh beginnings, and emerging hope. For others, it may feel more like winter—quiet, still, and perhaps even barren. Some may find themselves in the fullness of summer or the releasing nature of fall.

As you consider your current season of life, I invite you to be curious with me about the following questions:

- What season of life do you feel you are currently in? What makes you say that?

- What feels like it is “falling away” in your life right now?

- Where do you notice new growth—however small or subtle—beginning to emerge?

- What might your “bridge” look like in this season? What are you being invited to move toward or away from?

- What emotions come up for you when you think about transition or change?

- What would it look like to take one intentional step forward, even if the full path isn’t clear yet?

- Where might you need support as you navigate this transition?

If you need clarity and support to navigate this season, please reach out. We weren’t meant to do it alone.