Spring Is Hard When You’re Sowing Your Dreams

Fall has always been my favorite season—until I moved to Eugene. Then spring became the obvious favorite.

Eugene is so special in the spring. People everywhere, smiling. Flowers growing from the ground, flowers blooming in the trees, more flowers covering bushes—and verdant leaves everywhere.

I naturally grew to Love the process of tracking the leaves on trees as they begin to bud into these little pods that eventually explode into a surprise of neon green leaves, flowers, and sometimes bundles of flowers.

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Of course, with all these plants coming to life also comes major allergies. This place ranks among the highest in the U.S. for seasonal allergies—but that is a whole different story.

It is just so damn beautiful, and the sun is shining, with temperatures around 65 degrees. What in the whole wide world could be wrong with that?!?!

I guess I’m finding great challenge this spring, and I recognize this is an unpopular opinion. What I’ve been saying lately is “spring is hard.”

I should specify that this spring is hard—and I know why.

This past year, I have been working on living my dreams. My dreams are to be a full-time healer, coach, a guide in service to the awakening of human consciousness and the Heart’s of all.

Last spring, I was planting seeds for what I wanted to fruit from trainings that I saw in the horizon. I knew these trainings were the gateway to stepping into my dreams.

Those seeds certainly took off and had a natural cycle that led me to starting my healing practice as a breathwork and shadow work facilitator and guide, and of course eventually lead to a major null in the winter.

Now this Spring, the pressure feels more intense. I have planted many seeds—some I am seeing sprout already, some I am uncertain will germinate—and this is bringing up a lot for me to work with.

I must not forget the intensity in this country and in the world. People are scared. People are angry. Confused. Nonplussed. Depressed. Numb and detached, because we are at war.

Conflict is everywhere right now.

And of course, the opposite is happening, too—joy, beauty, happiness, excitement, peace, and gratitude—because being human and having this one life is so special and precious, even when we are faced with great turmoil and destruction.

So the seeds are sprouting, trees are growing leaves, flowers are blooming, the sun is shining, and the whole world, in terms of seasons, is asking us to come out of our darkness.

This, to me, feels like a terrifying task. I wake up most days not wanting to get out of bed because of how vulnerable I feel—exposing myself and my soul’s yearning to the world to help myself, my Loved ones, and anyone else I can have an effect on.

How do I reconcile my longing for harmony, abundance, peace, and open Hearted Love when there is so much wanting to deflate or inflate my power?

How am I to feel good about the garden I’m creating when there is so much suffering in the world due to abuse of power, rank, and financial freedom?

I ask these questions on behalf of those, like me, who are creating the conditions for the life they want, while praying that life is valuable and beneficial to others.

So the seeds did their work in the darkness of the soil and are now exposing themselves to the world—to be seen, expressing to the world with undeniable life force.

This is so scary to something younger in me. In my past, I have planted many seeds that never really developed into a mature, well-rooted, strong perennial plant or tree. I am sensing fear, because of those experiences, that I will fail in living my dreams.

I am naming that not to incite pity or conciliation. I am naming that so that I know it’s present. This fear is welcome at my table, no matter how uncomfortable. If it wasn’t, it would more than likely stop me in my tracks.

I would stay in bed. Instead, I get up and have to reconfigure my whole being through my routines, practices, and centering activities.

This is like watering the garden. I am tending to myself so that I get the nutrients and nourishment I need to keep going.

This tending takes immense care-full presence.

And conditions fluctuate. I must remember to be open and receptive to my inner needs so that I can be responsive to the needs I see around me.

I am in service. This is what I am here to do.

I am committed to balance. And, speaking of those who have the privilege to find a sense of balance—because not all do—life, especially spring, is a dance between the polarities.

Life is a series of cycles. One emotion following the other. I am mostly water, like the ocean, with waxing and waning motions to experience. Rain follows sunshine, and vice versa.

This is all so necessary, from where I can see. And yet, it is all so hard.

But what is hard, really?

Lately, I realized that when I say I am struggling, I mean I am stuck. That is antithetical to what I want, which is flow.

But when something is hard, that is actually something I prayed for in some way. It’s uncomfortable, it’s a force to work with, but it’s not going against what I signed up for.

So admitting that something is hard does not mean I am weak, nor does it mean that something is wrong. I have to remind myself of that, because this is the point where people tend to quit. The path is too obstructed. I can’t move any further.

I must remember that I chose this path. My dream profession or life isn’t necessarily my purpose here on Earth, but it complements the deep healing, clearing, growing, shedding, connecting, and Loving that I am here to do.

I get the sense you may still be reading because you are also on the path of creating the conditions for the life of your dreams. You see it. You can feel it. You’ve been planting the seeds and tending to the garden.

Maybe your garden is thriving… and still, new and unexpected variables arise.

There is a tension between what is beautiful…

and what is hard.

Between what is growing…

and what feels like it could fall apart at any moment.

So beautiful, and so unsettling.

I imagine this is what people would consider being on the edge of something.

This is why spring has felt so hard this year. Individually and collectively, we are on the edge of something big. Conditions are being created and destroyed constantly.

Life keeps changing.

And in life, we must remember the difference between when we are struggling and when things are simply hard. Both may support and practices for working with it all.

No matter what, be present with what is. If you are crying with grief in paradise, don’t resist it.

If you need help understanding why you feel energetically off or challenged—even when the external conditions are so beautiful, when a world of life and possibility is right in front of you—find your support people. Find your healers.

You don’t have to navigate this alone.