Embracing the Changing Seasons
Why Change Might Be Just What We Need April 2024
As humans, we often resist change. We’re drawn to stability and routine—it helps us feel safe. So when something shifts or comes to an end, it can unsettle us. And yet, change is one of the very things that makes life meaningful.
Perhaps the clearest reminder of this is the rhythm of the seasons.
Each season brings something new. Spring carries renewal and fresh beginnings—the first buds, longer light, the hum of possibility. Summer brings warmth and ease—long days, outdoor moments, and a slower pace. Autumn offers richness—harvest colours, a crispness in the air, and the invitation to slow down. Winter is quieter. A time of reflection, rest, and inner stillness.
Still, we often find ourselves wishing one season would linger or another pass more quickly. But what if, instead of resisting these transitions, we welcomed them? What if the changing seasons became an invitation—not to dread what’s ending, but to notice what’s emerging?
Last year, I faced a season of unexpected change. The charity I founded—something I’d poured years of my life into—came to an end. It wasn’t part of my plan. At one time, I thought it would always be my life’s mission. But the world had changed, and holding on for the sake of familiarity no longer felt right. Together, the trustees and I made the difficult but unanimous decision to close. Letting go of something so meaningful was painful, but it opened space for something new to grow. I couldn’t fully see it at the time, but I definitely see that more clearly now.
The seasons remind us that everything is in motion. Nothing stays the same. That might feel unsettling—but it can also wake us up to what matters. Impermanence isn’t meaningless; it’s what gives life its depth. It nudges us to be present, to savour what’s here, and to make more intentional choices.
And just as the seasons rely on one another—spring only follows winter because winter has done its work—we too are part of something interconnected. Nothing is wasted. The transitions themselves are part of the design. I’m excited that all that has gone before has equipped me for this new season more than I could have imagined.
So as I close this post and move into what’s next, I want to acknowledge that I do so with openness. I hope to honour each season—both in nature and in life—for what it offers. And I want to keep seeing change not as something to fear, but as a quiet teacher, guiding us forward.
Wriiten by Niky Dix | 22nd April 2024
