The Season Inside You

The shift doesn't arrive all at once,

It arrives this morning,

When you step outside and the air carries that mistakable edge,

Not the full winter cold,

Not the warmth that still clings from the season past,

But this in-between temperature,

Where your body knows the season is turning even before your mind does.

You stand here for a moment longer than usual,

Noticing it,

And you recognize how strange it is that endings and beginnings enter our lives so quietly.

Transformation is not a grand finale,

Not a thunderclap,

Not a dramatic breaking open.

More often,

It is one leaf turning brown on a branch that was vibrant only yesterday.

You go through your usual morning,

Keys,

Door,

Errands,

Coffee,

Same places,

Same faces,

Same shoes,

Same streetlights,

And yet something feels altered.

The world looks familiar,

But carries a new tone,

Like the song stays the same but shifts to a minor key,

And somewhere inside of you there is a matching shift.

Something is loosening,

Almost intraperceptively,

A new version of you that once fit perfectly now stretches.

These transitional inner seasons,

People rarely name them.

You feel the old self dissolving,

Even though the new self hasn't fully arrived yet.

This is the magic of change.

Nature releases what can't make the next crossing.

It does so without apology,

Without guilt,

Without over-explaining why it no longer holds what it once carried.

And this is the invitation of your own inner season.

You allow what you've outgrown to simply be complete.

You honor endings as integral to renewal.

This in-between time,

This tender hinge between chapters,

This is not nothing.

This is where your internal world reorganizes,

Where the roots of your future quietly take shape beneath the surface,

And as the first softness of spring returns,

Eventually you realize you evolve.

You are not failing.

The seasons are not only around you,

They are happening through you.

Exhale fully.

Feel the moment you are in.

Notice the body you carry,

The mind you inhabit,

The quiet rhythm of your own unfolding.

And simply allow yourself to be here.

This is your season two.