Every year, in my business and in my life, it happens the same way.
At the start of the year, in the winter, things move slowly. When I was less perceptive, I might have complained that nothing was happening at all. I might have pushed myself to do more, even against my own intuition. Because I wasn’t seeing the results.
But don’t get me wrong—I’m still busy. It’s just a different kind of busy. A less validated busy. One that involves planning and re-conceptualizing and building out the boring pieces that no one ever thinks about. Like affiliate contracts and payment portals and revisiting sales pages. Just as much as sitting for hours waiting for the next Sacred Mastermind content to come through and not rushing the process.
Or planning my surprise proposal in Italy. Or wedding in Aruba.
Winter’s always an inward time for me. Where the outward tasks are slow and not all that flashy.
And then comes spring. I can feel the change instantly. It’s like I wake up one day, and things start moving. Often faster than I’m ready for.
I remember the day—at just the start of spring—that I got an out-of-the-blue e-mail from a book publisher. She wanted to talk about offering me a book deal. And whoosh—spring was upon me.
Or the time that, in early April, I got the call to launch my first Sacred Circle. And the content started dancing around in my head. Coming through so quickly I’d write an entire week in 20 minutes.
Or the time that I got a clear sign to hire Sherri. It didn’t even feel like an option.
Or the time I took Garrett to that airport and told him we were getting on a plane to Rome.
Because it was spring. It was time to take bold action. And the energy was flying around.
And then there’s summer. For most of my life, I’ve loved the summer (though I suspect school vacation had something to do with it), but in recent years it’s just felt too crazy. There’s always movement—travel, weekends away, and a serious ramping up of the work. I often find the summer Sacred Circles have a quicker energy, and I need to be fully present to keep up with them.
When summer rolls around, I’m usually shocked I ever felt the year was going slowly. And all of the underground work I was doing in the winter is finally in full bloom. Even the stuff I didn’t think had anything to do growth is now expansive. And I get that how deep the roots grow in winter.
And, finally, fall has its turn. And, being a Bostonian, I can’t help by fall in love with fall. The weather is perfect. The foliage is beautiful. And, for me, it’s always a time when we are finally hitting a groove with the work we’ve been cultivating all year. It’s finally come to full fruition, and it feels good.
Now’s the time we pause and evaluate what is working and what isn’t, and we start planning our big changes for the next year to come. Like creating a new course. Or launching a new Mastermind. Or releasing an affiliate program. Or creating a web show.
We’re whittling it all down, getting focused, and evaluating what is the big thing to come the following year.
Only to end up in winter again. Where things move much slower than we expected and where there’s more work to do on the things no one will see. And so it starts again.
You know, I’ve been thinking about this cycle a lot. For one, working so closely with the plans as an herbalist, I’m fascinated by their cycles.
At the surprise 30th birthday party, my friend Kate gifted me an amaryllis bulb—a beautiful red flower. And she told me to watch its growth and match it up to my life. Certainly, it’d have a lot of lessons for me.
So I did. And for the first three weeks, I was sure that I’d damaged its roots in planting it. Because it didn’t move an inch. And then, one day, a stalk just shot up. I’m talking almost nothing to maybe six inches high in one day. And then it slowed again. And maybe a week later, it shot up about a foot. And here we are, on the cusp of its blooming, and I’m amazed at its growth pattern.
It’s been uneven—to say the least. And it took a look time for the growth to even be visible. And then one day it just shot high up. You never could have seen it coming.
It moved from its winter to its spring. And all of the underground work became visible.
It’s helpful for me to look to the wisdom of the seasons. I think too often we get focused on what’s external. Judging ourselves for not having the results we desires. Unable to perceive the magic happening beneath the surface.
I’m grateful the seasons are the same each year—in the world and in my life. Because I’ve slowly begun to trust that winter is winter. And it’s something to really honor. Without all of this unseen root growth, I’d never have the grounding to survive the craziness of summer.
What season are you in right now? Maybe it’ll align with nature’s seasons where you are. But maybe it won’t. And that’s okay.
Because the important thing to remember is that all seasons are cyclical. But they all have their own magic.