The Sweeter Season

Writing this now, my mind remains focused on another time. As I have the habit of doing on birthdays, I think back to last year. Where exactly was I standing on this date, September 18th? What was my heart enduring, and how much was it enduring? Was I feeling hopeful during this time? Truly, I believe I was. As it stands to look back on however, much of the eagerness and excitement I felt for the fresh start of 24 was quickly disassembled. Within weeks, life quickly turned to grappling the very raw emotions that come with sudden unemployment, multiple unexpected deaths, and no immediate solutions or comforts to take any of it away.

I think it’s important to take time to look back and observe seasons factually. I used to believe I was a negative person for experiencing negative emotions, partially blaming myself for life’s hard seasons, but that’s not reality. The reality is, hard seasons come and it’s too easy to forget that sweeter seasons eventually come after. I look back to the start of this calendar year, and I remember how low I was. I can note how little I felt I cared, and I can describe to you my family’s hesitation when leaving me alone. Like I said, this remains factual and isn’t at all negative to note or express.

Because as I celebrate 25 today, I notice the hope I hold onto right now, along with the zest I feel for what is to come, and I have to acknowledge that these emotions, unlike I, were not born today; They’re the result of the sweeter season.

It’s a season that required overwhelming patience to arrive to, but I’m careful to observe what I know:

I spent the year taping affirmations on my bathroom mirror like I was 14 again.

I started the long uphill battle of fighting my deconditioned physical state. Slowly, I’ve watched the beginning of healing take place and now even have some visible muscle tone — something I’ve never seen on my body before!

I walked away from those continually unwilling to accept me.

I learned people I love dearly would unexpectedly pass & I’d spend whole 8 hour shifts in my bathtub, processing the monumental grief of losing entire parts of my being at once.

I enjoyed another loving year at the side of my sweet Stella girl, my most faithful companion.

I remained unemployed for 9 months, living off small savings, praying to God day-by-day that the unanswered would find resolve. Each and every day, they did through Him and Him alone.

I began teaching myself piano after years convincing myself I was too far behind to be anything extraordinary, until later, I learned I actually didn’t care about sounding impressive.

I put myself on a pickleball court where my siblings and I learned how to play from our dad. This is something I’ve LOVED and recognize as something that absolutely couldn’t have happened without the improvements to my health.

I went through schooling and became a certified yoga teacher, an adventure I ultimately believe acted as my rescue. Through personal practice, finding a place where I belong, and sharing that with others has proven incredibly fruitful.

Looking back, I see how in just a single year, life can move from hopeful, to utterly hopeless, to hope abounding. My wish, if you’re reading this in a place where hope doesn’t seem to exist, is to wait for that sweeter season. I promise, it’s coming.