The time I left Barbieland (aka Hawaii).
A rebirth? For spring? Groundbreaking.
I grew up with very traditional seasons on the west coast of Canada. We are known to have it mild compared to the rest of the country—and we absolutely do—but the winters are still no joke. Daylight fluctuates between 7.5 hours a day (winter) to 16.5 hours a day (summer). Everything is cyclical; in rhythm and motion with the four seasons amongst us.
After reading this article last week—which posed the question of whether or not you feel a sense of belonging from your current location—I instantly thought about the years when I lived on the North Shore of Kauai. If you aren’t familiar with this region, give it a quick google search and you will be greeted with the most picturesque photos of paradise you’ve ever laid eyes upon. I have no right to complain about my experience living in this tropical oasis—and I won’t. But I would like to share a personal story about living without seasons and coming to realize how much I rely on them for personal growth, emotional balance, and fresh starts.
So there I was in Hawaii, a summer baby at the age of 27 living her brightest life. Each and every day I awoke to the bountiful and lush season of summer—my prayers had finally been answered. Leaves were the size of small SUVs, avocados were the size of footballs, and the ocean was warm enough to swim in at any given moment. The intensity of this abundance was contagious and enlivening. I was thriving in it, working longer hours than ever before. Constantly finding more energy to spend on bigger and better ideas. Playing in the jungle with every moment I had off—always making time for the beach, the next hike, and drinks on the patio. The sun rose and set at the same time everyday—a reliable and consistent state of bliss. A way of living that caused time to stand still. Months, years, birthdays, and christmases started passing without a trace. You know what they say about too much of a good thing...
After a couple years, it eventually got to a point where I felt like I needed a break from summer. To be honest, I probably needed that break long before I realized it. Don’t get me wrong, I will never take that chapter of my life (or that unbelievable island) for granted. But the abundance piled on top of abundance 365 days a year started to drain me. If this is reminding you of the Barbie movie right now, I was just thinking the same thing! Was I broken? Everyone around me seemed more than content to live in the rainbow state forevermore. Acting like everything was normal and nothing else existed outside this bubble of bliss while I was there like:
I started craving some darkness and cool air. I wanted some time off the island. As a girl who complains about the winter every single year, I was shocked when I found myself looking for an excuse to pull out my toque and mittens. To bundle up and take a quiet walk through a field of snow to collect my thoughts. I wondered if it was the challenge of winter I was longing for? Maybe I needed something to test my strength? Or maybe winter was nature’s only way of forcing me to pause and take a breath?
I hadn’t learned to establish cyclical change within my life—I was so used to relying on the external seasons to guide me through it. Forcing me to slow down, turn inward, let go, recalibrate, and start again. Living in Hawaii, I forgot to tune in to the internal seasons of my body. I got stuck in the “on” mode of summer and wondered why I started feeling out of balance and exhausted. I kept waiting for that refreshing and awakening feeling to kick in—the one I had come to rely on every year around this time.
I was waiting for my spring rebirth!
I can hear Miranda Priestly’s voice in my head as I write this: A rebirth? For spring? Groundbreaking.
I know, it’s a cliché. But it’s true! I cherish that priceless reward we are given for enduring the slow and quiet demise of winter. The yang to the yin. The light after darkness. I was living with the lights turned on at all hours of the day and wondering why things were starting to fall apart. I thought I could cheat the system and only honour my favourite season—summer—leaving the other three behind. I should have known better than to think there was a place that existed without darkness—a Barbieland in the middle of the pacific ocean.
In a panic, I created my own winter. I quit my job and left my tropical island life behind (death) to simulate a fresh start (spring). I wasn’t kidding when I said I really do love my fresh starts! We can talk about the rest of this journey another time, but let’s get back to the importance of the seasons for today. It wasn’t until I stopped experiencing winter that I realized its great power and strategic role in my life. Winter gives us the space to move slower, rest longer, and retreat into our homes to save up our energy reserves. It acts as a reminder that nothing lasts forever. I eventually realized there is a part of me that really appreciates the slightly torturous Canadian winters I grew up with. Even though it often feels never ending when I’m in it—I literally tell Scott we need to leave Canada to find somewhere warmer to live every time January rolls around. But winter guides me through a death where I’m forced to pause and face the things that aren’t working. I have no choice but to let go and release the old. It challenges me but it also allows me to come back stronger and gain new perspectives.
Most importantly, it’s what allows the next season to exist. Winter creates spring and once those cherry blossoms fill every street in our city with soft pink petals, I am brimming with hope. A pure and innocent hope that carries away the weight of winter and wipes my slate clean once again. An energetic recalibration (a rebranding, if you will) that grants me another shot at making this little life of mine even more meaningful. Springtime represents the realization of one’s potential and greatness. It’s a skeleton of twigs dramatically blossoming into a plentiful peach tree—and who doesn’t love a good overhaul moment?
This Tuesday (March 19th) marks the first day of spring. It’s time to embrace your new beginnings, allow the transformations to take shape, and watch in wonder as the world around you starts to unfurl its butterfly wings.
Sing it with me now: Oh happy day (Oh happy day)!
What is your relationship to spring?
What is the season stirring in you this year?
Have you ever lived in a location that doesn’t have seasons?
Footnote: Since I’ve chosen to orbit this month’s posts around art, let’s take a little digital gallery walk together. Below are works that span the past five centuries, each one representing the coming season of spring.
PPS—If you enjoy a good head-to-toe exfoliation with the changing of the seasons, try my Cashmere Coffee Body Polish recipe. It’s scrumptious!
Lauren, I nodded fervently throughout this. Fervently!! Immediately it made me think of two things: 1. My husband, a music producer and audiophile, once told me that German techno music producers approach winter as being the time to bed down and make the music for the summer. Is that not so moving? This idea that we need the dark for hibernation and devotion to making beautiful things that will come alive and be celebrated -- and danced to -- in the long, hot days? In this same way, I actually relish working longer hours in the winter so that I can be free, lackadaisical, and "full hedo" (sorry, total Aussie slang dump lol) in the summer. To me it's that Call Me By Your Name house vibe -- maybe there's creative and unfolding projects but the goal of the summer is to undulate between things without pressure and maximum, oozing ease...on a hot day, that's all there's energy for anyway?
2. This podcast from Nocturne is deadset one of the most stunning and thought-provoking pieces I've ever listened to. The ideas around the polar night being time for connection and other forms of energy. The quiet and slowing of things is seemingly another form of fuel? You might find it interesting: https://www.nocturnepodcast.org/the-blue-time/
Overall, love, love, love this article and mutually amped for "the grand stretch", as the Irish call it, of spring and summer days xx Ps Primavera is utterly sublime!
I totally get this!! I’m from Washington state and I moved to California for quite some time. I missed the dark, rainy, stormy days! I’m back in my home state now and happier than ever with my seasons.