Being Renewed
· Being
Some things can't bloom in a hurry. A reflection on slowing down, looking up, and letting spring renew what winter quieted.
[quote:Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished. — Lao Tzu]
Some Things Can't Bloom in a Hurry
A few mornings ago, I did something I hadn't done in months. I rolled the windows down. That's it. No breakthrough moment. No podcast playing. No productivity hack waiting for me on the other side. Just four windows down on the first real spring morning Chicago had offered in a long while.
And instantly, the world felt different.
The air smelled alive again. Wet pavement. Fresh-cut grass. Somebody grilling way too early for lunch. Birds screaming at each other like they'd been holding in stories all winter. I found myself slowing down without even meaning to. At a stoplight, I noticed an older man walking his dog down the sidewalk. No phone in his hand. No headphones. No rush. The dog stopped every few feet to sniff something apparently life-changing, and instead of tugging him along, the man just waited patiently like he had nowhere more important to be.
I remember thinking, when was the last time I moved through life like that? Not racing. Not multitasking. Not trying to squeeze productivity out of every moment. Just present.
Maybe that's why spring affects us emotionally. Because after months of gray skies, noise, schedules, pressure, and screens, the world quietly comes back to life and reminds us we can too.
The Noise We've Learned to Live With
I think many of us are tired in ways sleep can't fix. We've become experts at staying busy. Answering notifications. Building careers. Managing schedules. Keeping up appearances.
Trying to improve ourselves nonstop while secretly wondering why we still feel empty sometimes. The trees don't force themselves to bloom. The flowers don't compare themselves to the garden next door. The birds don't seem overly concerned with becoming more successful birds. They simply respond to the light.
Meanwhile, many of us are exhausted from trying to become someone new every single day.
Simon Sinek talks about finding your why. Brené Brown reminds us that vulnerability and belonging are where real connection begins. Ryan Holiday writes about stillness and learning to quiet the noise. Different voices. Same truth. The best parts of life rarely arrive loudly.
Looking Up Again
The other day, while dragging dead branches to the curb after cleaning up the yard from winter, I reread a story often attributed to educator James Aggrey about an eagle's egg that somehow rolled into a chicken coop.
The eagle hatched alongside the chickens and grew up doing what chickens do. Pecking at the dirt. Staying close to the fence. Keeping his head down. And because everyone around him lived that way, he never questioned it. Until one afternoon he looked up. Far above him was this massive bird soaring effortlessly through the sky.
Wings stretched wide. Completely free. The eagle asked one of the chickens what it was.
"That's an eagle," they told him. "But don't waste your time thinking about that. You could never do that." So he lowered his head and went back to pecking at the dirt. I sat there for a long time thinking about that story. Not because I think life is about becoming bigger, louder, richer, or more impressive. But because I wonder how many of us have slowly forgotten to look up. How many of us have accepted stress as normal.
Distraction as normal. Exhaustion as normal.
How many of us spend our days pecking at notifications, deadlines, comparison, and pressure while an entire beautiful life is happening above us and around us. Maybe that's what spring does. Maybe it lifts our heads again. Toward sunlight. Toward wonder.
Toward the possibility that we were made for more than simply surviving our schedules.
The Simple Things Are Still the Big Things
[quote:A successful life is built on small moments beautifully lived.]
I think deep down we already know this. A quiet cup of coffee before the house wakes up.
Your kid yelling, "Dad! Come look at this!" Dinner around the table. An unexpected laugh. A walk that lasts longer than planned. Sunlight through the kitchen window. None of those moments trend online. But they're the moments that actually build a life. We're drowning in connection tools while starving for connection. And I don't think more noise is going to save us.
I think presence might.
Maybe Winter Wasn't Wasted
[quote:There is a season for everything. — Ecclesiastes 3:1]
As I kept clearing branches from the yard, I had this thought: Nature never apologizes for winter. Trees don't stand there embarrassed because they looked lifeless for a season.
They understand something we forget. Rest is not failure. Stillness is not weakness. And what looks dormant might actually be preparing for something beautiful. I needed that reminder.
Maybe you do too.
Because some of us have been way too hard on ourselves lately. Maybe life looks different than you imagined. Maybe your season feels slower than you hoped. Maybe you've spent so long trying to become "better" that you forgot you were already worthy before you achieved another thing.
Come Back to Life
The trees are blooming again. Not because they hustled harder. Not because they optimized better. Not because they finally got everything figured out. They simply responded to the light. Maybe it's your turn. Not to become someone else.
Not to prove more. Not to chase harder. Just to look up again. To notice your life again. To remember what matters. To remember who matters. To stop missing beautiful moments because you were too distracted trying to improve yourself.
So this spring Go Be Renewed:
• Roll the windows down.
• Take the longer walk.
• Watch the sunset.
• Call the friend.
• Notice the flowers.