Seasons

The passing of time can come in many forms. The flip of a calendar year. The change to another month. The seconds ticking by as you hold a plank or run a mile. The lines of a song swimming past your ears as they slide towards the ending. Time is all around us, constantly passing and changing.

With the changing of times comes seasons. For some, seasons sparks the imagery of hot beach days turning to autumn leaves to a blanket of white snow, to then the victorious glory of spring flowers. But for me I think of the seasons of our lives.

We are constantly going through different seasons. They all come to a close, but not always in the same cadence as the trees turn or the snow falls. Instead, they are marked by the challenge of a difficult job, the joy of a new baby or a wedding, the hint of contentment when all seems just right, and the mystery of what feels a never-ending foul mood. The seasons of our lives are constant.

When I think of my body, I think of seasons. I think about how in some seasons I love and celebrate this body. Even with its extra flesh and larger clothing sizes. There are seasons where I am hurtful and critical and need to find that path to love and acceptance once more. For me there were once seasons filled with harm and disorder, casting a dark shadow over so many memories and moments.

As our lives move through seasons, so do our bodies. In that there is a certain hope and peace. The hope that our relationship with our bodies will continue to evolve over and over again, and the peace that we have some control over what that season looks like and how we live in it.

Don’t forget about seasons, they can pass fleetingly like time, or feel frozen like a winter storm, but know that they will constantly move forward, and so can you.