There’s a quiet shift in the air.
Not loud.
Not demanding.
Just… present.
Spring has arrived.
And for the first time in a long time,
I’m not rushing to meet it.
Winter asked something of me.
Not in the way of doing, but in the way of being.
Of sitting with what surfaced.
Of noticing what felt heavy, what felt unclear, what lingered longer than I expected.
There were moments of fog.
Moments where I didn’t have language for what I was feeling.
Moments where clarity felt just out of reach.
And still… I stayed.
Now, something feels different.
Not because everything is clear, but because I am.
There’s a gentle clearing happening:
in my mind,
in my body,
in the way I’m moving through my days.
Not all at once.
Not perfectly.
Just enough to notice that I’m no longer where I was.
Spring often carries this quiet expectation…
to bloom,
to begin again,
to step forward with certainty.
But that’s not where I am.
And for once,
I’m not trying to change that.
I’m meeting myself here.
In the in-between of clarity and unknown.
In the space where things are still unfolding.
In the calm that comes from not needing to rush what hasn’t fully formed yet.
There is peace here.
Not the kind that comes from having all the answers,
but the kind that comes from trusting that I don’t need them right now.
So I move gently.
I notice what feels lighter.
I honor what still feels tender.
I allow the unknown to exist without needing to solve it.
This… is my version of arrival.
Spring has arrived.
And instead of asking myself who I need to become in this season,
I’m simply asking:
Who am I, right now? And meeting her there.
Where are you meeting yourself… right now?
~ from the sanctuary