Turn, Turn, Turn… There Is a Season

Spring has arrived!

A Threshold of Light

When I hear Turn, Turn, Turn … To Everything There Is a Season, the song made famous by The Byrds, almost without thinking, I find myself recalling the very words of Ecclesiastes 3:1–8.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…”

“Turn, Turn, Turn” was pulled directly from that scripture, by Pete Seeger in 1959, which speaks to the natural cycles of life and God’s timing. It reminds us that all things … birth, death, planting, healing, weeping, dancing, even war … have an ordained time.

It is one of many favorite passages for me … and it resonates especially now.

There is something about this week that feels like a quiet exhale.

Not loud.
Not urgent.
Just … full.

Spring has arrived, and with it, that gentle invitation to begin again.

And here I am, in my final days of my 50s, standing in a space that feels both reflective and expansive … a place where I can look back with tenderness and forward with excitement that doesn’t need to rush.

Welcoming the Season

We gathered this past weekend for our Spring Equinox sound bath session.

Different paths.
Different stories.

There were women from different decades of life in the room,
and still, the stories that surfaced felt deeply familiar:
woven with the same threads of love, loss, healing, and becoming.

It reminded me how little separates us when we are willing to be seen.

There was a softness in the space … an openness that didn’t need to be explained. As the bowls were played and the room settled into stillness, something unspoken began to unfold.

The intention we set was simple:

Renewal.
Softening.
Allowing.

Not forcing change … but making space for it.

What We Choose to Nurture

Spring doesn’t ask us to have it all figured out.

It asks us to tend.

To notice what is ready to grow.
To gently return to what matters.
To water what we want to see flourish.

As I’ve been sitting with this season, I’ve been asking myself:

What do I want to nurture now?

Not what needs to be rushed.
Not what needs to be proven.
But what feels true enough to grow slowly.

There is something sacred about choosing that kind of pace.

A Week of Quiet Milestones

This week has held its own quiet celebrations.

Finished quilts folded with care … each one carrying its own story.
A walk by the water, where everything felt clear without needing explanation.
Moments of stillness that somehow said more than words ever could.

And woven through all of it …

The nearing release of Tattered & Mended: Soulful Stories of Life, Love and Legacy.

This book has been a long unfolding. A gathering of stories, of memory, of meaning … of the things we hold onto and the things that shape us.

To see it arrive now, in this season, feels right.

Not because it is finished … but because I am ready to share it.

The Gift of Who Has Walked With Me

I found myself this week thinking about the people who have crossed my path.

The ones who stayed.
The ones who came for a season.
The ones who taught me something I didn’t even know I needed.

My family.
Jim … steady, grounding, always there.
My clients, who trust me with their stories, their stillness, their healing.

There is a quiet gratitude that sits beneath it all.

A knowing that none of this happens alone.

And that the life I live … this creative, soulful, simple life … is something I get to choose.

That is not something I take lightly.

The Privilege of Aging

There is a tenderness in approaching this next birthday.

A deeper awareness of time … not in a way that feels heavy, but in a way that feels meaningful.

Aging is a privilege.

Not everyone gets to arrive here.

And with each year, I feel a little less concerned with what doesn’t matter … and a little more rooted in what does. Maybe even a bit stoic. Accepting what I cannot change and making efforts on what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Presence.
Connection.
Creating something that means something.

And maybe most of all …

Listening.

Listening in Awe

Lately, I’ve been listening more than I’ve been speaking.

Listening to the rhythm of my days.
To the quiet nudges.
To the way life unfolds when I stop trying to control every part of it.

There is something deeply humbling about it.

To realize that this life … as simple as it may seem … is also incredibly rich.

And that what’s ahead doesn’t need to be chased.

It just needs to be met.

What Comes Next

I don’t have a long list this week.

Just a feeling.

A full heart.
A sense of readiness.
An excitement for what is unfolding.

Spring is here.
A new decade is just ahead.
A book is about to enter the world.

And I am standing in the middle of it all …
grateful, grounded, and open.

There is a time for beginnings.
A time for reflection.
A time for gathering what has been … and a time for stepping into what is becoming.

And maybe this is simply that moment.

A season …
just as it was always meant to be.