The 5 “R”s of Restarting and Spring (part two)

My Own Springs

I’ve been through quite a few springs. In terms of actual springs, I’ve been through several decades worth. Spring has always been a very welcome season, since I have typically lived in places with cold and snowy winters. And because who doesn’t like a little play and puddle jumping! 

I’ve also been through quite a few spring seasons.

The hardest and longest spring season occurred immediately following my high school graduation and lasted about five years. During those years, I tried and tried and tried to restart my life in multiple ways and multiple directions, but everything was a dead end, failed, or didn’t feel like it was right for me. I did all of the typical things young adults do to try to launch their lives: go to college and drop out, switch programs, go to a different college and don’t complete, move out, move back home, move to a different city, get engaged, call off the wedding, start another relationship, etc. The deeper truth is that there was a critical mismatch between the calendar of my life that said it was time to restart and the profound winter I was actually in. My ability to create was significantly compromised by the heavy weight of complex trauma (which I remember feeling like ten thousand pounds attached to each of my ankles). When I finally surrendered into the retreating of winter and the much deeper needs to renew, reflect, and release, a lot of what I had been carrying, I started to find the part of me that could plant new seeds and things started to grow.

The happiest spring seasons when I reflect back were those spent restarting in a new direction that was more authentic, better suited to me, or in response to a pull from deeper within. These springs involved such things as leaving three completed years of a business degree to switch to social work, going through the process and training to become a foster parent while single, going back to school for a masters, switching thesis topics half way through to study the relationship between spirituality and health, and choosing to become pregnant at 40 and navigating the high risks involved. Ironically, even though they were the happiest, they often involved significant letting go of other things, preparation, capacity building, fear of failure, pushback from those around me, and not knowing how it would all work out, etc., but the inner certainty and sense of alignment buffered against all that.

How many springs have you been through? Actual springs? And spring seasons?

How did you recognize, honour, and navigate your restarting?

Readying

The second R of spring is Readying. Readying is about preparing ourselves and our lives for the restart we are moving into.

There are many ways to ready ourselves, and we have to find the ways that work for us and suit whatever change, new direction, or beginning we are moving into.

It’s also very helpful to ground ourselves for the growth and change of restarting. Growth and change require commitment, energy, attention, time, and internal resources. The bigger the restart, the more these things will be required and the longer they will be required for. So, we can support ourselves by recognizing this up front and clearing some space within ourselves. It’s like making sure there is a certain percentage of internal bandwidth consistently available for the restarting and to carry the new direction or change through into the next seasons as well. We often need to let go of other things to clear the way.

It’s also a really good idea to move through some advance rearranging in our lives to support the restart. Most of us have pretty busy lives. There isn’t a lot of free space, or at least we don’t think so. But it’s unrealistic to think we can create something new without the space to do it. So, we almost always need to open up regular time in our schedule. We might need to get some physical resources in place. We likely need to share our restarting intention with those closest to us so they can understand and hopefully support us.

Some people are inherently good at readying themselves and their lives. On some level they understand the importance. Other people, like me, who tend to rush in or don’t know what they don’t know, learn through trial and error that it is better to slow down and prepare properly because we exponentially increase our likelihood of restarting in a way that takes root.  And others don’t ready themselves and their lives, often because it doesn’t occur to them, or they simply underestimate or don’t understand the value of doing so. Not always, but often in my experience, their restarts don’t take root.

One of my first big failings was a grade 11 French class. I grew up Francophone, so speaking was easy, which meant I could become bored and disruptive in class. The teacher often invited me to go for a walk in the halls during class time and finally suggested that I take the class by correspondence (a restart in a new direction). Way back then (before personal computers and the internet) they sent you all your materials in a box through snail mail and left you to your own devices. I didn’t complete it. I failed a class that should have been easy for me. But I learned a really valuable lesson about the importance of readying myself and my life whenever I am moving in a new direction or want to make a change. (I went on to do many different courses by distance, including some at the undergrad and graduate level effectively).

How will you best ready yourself and your life for whatever restart you are leaning into?

For me, one of my spring restarts is focused on my health. I’ve been pretty health literate and health conscious since my early twenties when even the surgical options to address a painful illness were no longer providing much relief. In response, I made many lifestyle choices over the years that eventually resolved the illness. Those habits related to nutrition, exercise, coping, etc., have served me very well and by most standards, I’m pretty healthy.

As a fair skinned person who grew up before there was common knowledge of the damaging effects of ultraviolet sunlight, and before sunscreen existed (mass market sunscreens with broad spectrum protection came out in the late 1990s/early 2000s), I experienced many sunburns and skin damage that resulted in a skin cancer diagnosis at the end of 2025. (Note that since the early 2000’s I’ve been pretty diligent in wearing SPF 30 or higher). So, my restart this spring involves increasing my health efforts given this new reality and the general impact of aging. I’ve been undergoing procedures to remove the cancer, and I’m going to prioritize sleep more and add additional elements to my nutrition and physical activity.

I’m also going to keep showing up in my life, as a parent, daughter, and friend, in my spiritual practice, in my work, and in growing my business.

As the snow starts to melt, I invite you to lean into spring: both the weather and the process of restarting. As tempting as it is, don’t rush to plant your seeds until you’ve properly prepared yourself and the soil of your life.

 With Humility, Hope, and Heart,