EMBRACE THE SEASON

by Sarah Lee

It’s finally __________ season!

How would you fill in that blank? It’s finally cabin season? Fishing season? Gardening season? Hammocking season? Lake season? Summer camp season?

Will __________ season ever end?

What about that blank? Mosquito season? Sunburn season? School’s-out-for-summer season? Sweat-stain season?

In Minnesota, we get to experience all four seasons (although some feel like they’re just a blip—I’m looking at you, spring). We’re used to it. We understand what comes with each season, and we prepare for it by tuning up our snowblower or lawn mower, getting out our swimsuits or parkas, planting seeds or harvesting the last of the year’s produce from the garden.

Although I’ve lived here my whole life, I haven’t really accepted the changing seasons and am, somehow, always resistant to whatever season we happen to be in. Summer is too hot and humid, winter is too cold and dark, and spring and fall are too short and unpredictable. Unfortunately, I often have this attitude about other “seasons” of life as well—seasons of burnout, of intense work, of rest, of loss, job change, moving, or relationship changes. It’s difficult to accept and settle into, especially if it’s unwelcome or wasn’t planned for.

Ecclesiastes 3 says, “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.” But if we’re honest, there are a lot of things that we probably wish didn’t have a season. We may wish there wasn’t a season for grieving or loss, for death or letting go. I would definitely be okay without having a time for mosquitos.

But what would it look like to accept and embrace whatever season we’re in? To take the time to do what needs to be done, put aside what it isn’t time for, and to learn what there is to learn.

In the past year, I’ve gotten really into plants—growing vegetables and flowers in the garden during the summer and houseplants all year round. I’ve been endlessly fascinated by watching new leaves unfurl, tomatoes ripen, and flowers bloom. Plants innately know what time of year it is, and their life cycles are based around this.

Even my houseplants know what time of year it is by the length of the sunlight and darkness each day. When it’s winter, it’s time for them to conserve energy and slow down their growth. When the days start to get longer, I notice that my houseplants start to put out more leaves, ramping up for the long days of sunlight and warmth. Even during Minnesota’s relatively short summers, the plants in my garden go through so many stages, from sprout, to bloom, to fruit, to seed.

Our lives may be a bit more complicated than the life of the tomato plant in my garden or the philodendron in my apartment, and it may take some discernment to know what season of life we’re in and what that time calls for.

Maybe you’re exhausted or burnt out and need a season of rest, like winter, where you need to conserve energy and take time