Seasons of settling


I’ve done much pondering lately about what I need.

When I moved to Lincoln almost a year ago, I needed space.  I needed constancy. I needed independence.

And I got those things. I live in a spacious, fantastic apartment. My job has provided me stable income and routine. I’m out here by myself, no one else in my family within at least 10 hours.

At the time, the big apartment, the pulling away, the proverbial “spreading of the wings” was what I needed. Now, I’m not sure if I need that anymore.

I’ve been reading a bit about a more minimalist life. Considered the idea of a capsule wardrobe. Read this article about tiny homes. Ruminated on all the things in my apartment that I haven’t used in the almost year I’ve lived here.

The season I was in when I moved to Lincoln is slowly changing. I was in a season of more, the season of making big, bold strokes on the tapestry.

Now, I feel the winds changing. It’s a season of settling.

I don’t mean to settle like to accept less than what you deserve. Not at all. I mean to settle like when you’re in a deep stretch and the teacher says, “now settle into that,” and your muscles release and your head falls gently and you feel yourself melting into the floor. That settling that feels good, like what you’ve been waiting for. 

I may be coming on a season of downsizing, of settling in, of squirreling my money away for the next season.

Whatever season you are in, embrace it for what it is. Life is not always about planting our feet, curling our toes into the ground to hold our place when the storm comes. Sometimes, it’s about leaning into the wind.


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