A chance to start anew

(is exactly what I need)

‘Tis the season. (Getty Images)

Today’s newsletter will be short and sweet. As you may have gleaned last week, I’m in the midst of some creative/professional/spiritual existentialism, for lack of a tidier term. I’ve decided to put off paid newsletter subscriptions on hold while I sort through it all.

I’ll be honest, friends. I’m feeling a bit lost. I’m disconnected from friends, disconnected from Billy, and even disconnected from myself — or at least the version of myself that I want to be. It’s an uncomfortable and sort of sad place to be.

This weekend, a small group of Sweet Dumb Brain readers joined me and Becca on Zoom for our spring intentions workshop. I shared some of the bewilderment I was feeling. I also shared a reminder that I needed to hear: oftentimes, periods of discomfort are a sign that something good is ahead. 

Saying that out loud gave me a tiny bit of hope this will prove to be true for me. Change is uncomfortable, yes, but new growth is a wonderful thing. 

Perhaps what I’m experiencing is a version of growing pains. If that’s the case, spring feels like a perfect season to go through just that.

As I sort through all my discomfort, and as newsletters may be a bit sporadic, I’ll continue to lean on my weekly intentions practice. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you can read about it here.) If you, too, want to start keeping weekly intentions this season, I created a handy document that you can use just for spring.

Here’s to a season of growth. Of rebirth. Of starting anew. That sounds like exactly what I need.

xoxo
KHG

p.s. During our workshop, I also shared a reading from Margaret Renkl’s The Comfort of Crows. I want to carry these words with me throughout the season ahead.

The world is burning, and there is no time to put down the water buckets. For just an hour, put down the water buckets anyway. Take your cue from the bluebirds, who have no faith in the future but who build the future nevertheless, leaf by leaf and straw by straw, shaping them into the roundness of the world.

Turn your face up to the sky. Listen. The world is trembling into possibility. The world is reminding us that this is what the world does best. New life. Rebirth. The greenness that rises out of ashes.