The sky is gray and the trees are budding green. The tiny leaves pop against the dark sky, bravely unfurling as they return to the familiar way of becoming again. Nature seems to say, I’m ready for what’s coming next. And perhaps I am too.

I’ve been reminded about the myth of arrival this week and new guides are instead offering the truth that with every new answer, comes new questions to live into. As I continue to grow, this answering of questions offers an invitation. How can I unfurl, just like the trees, against dark skies, with an inner knowing? I’ve done this before – the world has changed in the off season, and still there’s a power within me, trusting DNA and a swirl of interests, passions, and opportunities for what this season is calling for next. Sure, it’s trite to say the journey is the destination, and in all of these mixed metaphors lies the possibility that perhaps I don’t have to work so hard.

Perhaps my body and my heart already know what to do. It’s my mind that gets in the way.

The man next to me at the coffee shop is chuckling as he listens to a podcast, ear buds tucked in tight. I look around and watch us all immersed in our screens and our keyboards, eyes down so we don’t have to look at one another, I think about the way we come together, just to be alone. We consume, we scroll, we create, we connect. We sip and we stumble and we stutter, finding ways to either get louder or drown out the noise. What if we didn’t have to work so hard?

And this week, I want to instead rest in a different way of being. The leaves know what to do. They just unfurl, emerging into a world that has already changed. Unfurling alongside others. A beautiful thing.