Spring, as it always does, showed up without being told it had to.

One morning it’s snowing and you’re wishing bad things on a groundhog and then you wake up and the birds are singing outside your window. The light is shining a little different and the air feels softer. 

Spring has finally sprung. And then the pressure starts.

Clean everything. Declutter everything. Plant something. Refresh something. Make it intentional. Make it a season of growth. 

Hard. Pass.

I am tiptoeing into spring. A slow gentle walk. 

Five Ways to a Quieter Spring

The mornings

I journal without music or the tv. I crack a window and listen to the birds as they sing their praise of the new season. Is there any better sound than singing birds? I’m not journaling to think through my day or solve anything. Some days I write pages, some days I just write three things I’m grateful for. Some days I have five minutes and some days 30. The point isn’t the pages, it’s being still for a bit and taking time for myself. 

Embracing spring’s lesson

Spring reminds me to accept that life isn’t linear. We never really fix anything, we just get better at most things. Like my anxiety. I wish I could flip a switch and it would be gone forever. I can’t. It isn’t. Life moves on. Spring is like that. Nature’s way of showing us that’s ok. One day it’s sunny and sixty degrees and then it’s snowing again. And then, two days later, it’s sunny and sixty again.  

My garden

I used to panic and feel pressure to plant my garden the second the birds started singing. All the boxes planted perfectly, neatly in a row. Now I slowly make my way. Planting wherever I see an open spot. Embracing the mess of it all. Knowing it will be months of fighting off bugs, bunnies and squirrels. There’s no rush. Spring is for planting, beginnings, not perfection and pressure.

The outcome

There are things I’m growing this spring that aren’t in my garden. Ideas, decisions, a very special new piece of my brand I’ve been quietly building. I’m excited to share it, but right now I’m allowing it to breathe and be built without rushing it into the world. Soon it will be a business, right now it’s a passion project that is bringing me joy. Like spring, it’s a reminder to enjoy the planting. Not only the outcome.

The season itself

Spring doesn’t need a color-coded planner or a new set of intentions. You don’t need to optimize it or organize your way through it. It just needs you to stop moving long enough to notice it’s here.

Look up. Look out. Spring is doing its thing with or without your agenda. Don’t miss it. 

What would this season look like if you let it unfold instead of managed it? Write down everything you think you’re supposed to get done this spring. Then go back through the list. Highlight the few that actually matter. Let the rest become “if it happens, it happens” items.

Spring will be here and gone before you know it. Don’t spend it managing a list.