Winter, but not the end

If you asked me, I would say that my life is currently in winter. No, I’m not at the end of my life, though I know that’s a common association to make.

After all, winter is a time of barrenness and death. It falls at the end of the year, after a full cycle of birthing and growing and thriving and dying.

But winter is more than that. It’s more than an ending. It’s a beginning. Because the seasons are a cycle. They don’t end with winter and death. Winter leads into spring. Death leads into life.

My life is like that right now. In many ways, it is barren and empty, but that quiet nothingness can be beautiful, like a world muted by heavy white snow.

Pieces of my life were put to death, but that isn’t a bad thing. Those deaths don’t signal the end. They lead to new life. The death of one bad job can lead to the birth of a new passion. The death of an unhealthy relationship can be the birth of new friendships, new loves, or even new confidence in independence.

Right now, my life is in winter. But I’m enjoying the beauty in the barrenness while I wait for spring to arrive.