The season officially changed from winter to spring on March 20. Here in San Francisco, we experienced a mini heatwave that felt more like fall. (Summer in San Francisco begins in September and goes through October).  The rest of the country was experiencing cold temperatures and snowstorms, signaling that winter was staying just a bit longer.

Much like the seasonal change in the natural world, new seasons in our lives take time to shift. We may know spiritually and mentally that we have crossed the line into a new season, but it doesn’t feel like much has changed in our physical reality. In the natural world, we hold on to subtle signals of seasonal change from winter to spring, such as longer days, optimism about spring plans, the beautiful plants starting to bloom, putting away our winter clothes, and pulling out our lighter wardrobe. We know eventually spring won’t be just a date on the calendar, but a reality in our lives. We just have to make it through the lull as winter gives way to spring.

As I approach my forty-fifth year with eager expectation, I am in a lull in between seasons, and it’s uncomfortable. For the first time that I can remember, I don’t have any concrete career goals. I know I want to look at training more as a supplemental income, and I know I want to move to working as a communications professional, but I do not know what is next. It is nuts. I was filling out the survey for the professional organization in the fitness industry that I belong to, and I realized I have no drive or enthusiasm to put in any more effort to build a training business. I don’t care to take things any further. I am still committed to doing a great job for my clients, but it feels like I should pour my energy and effort into myself, a rebrand, and my writing.

The only word I could come up with to describe what my life is saying to me right now is lull, so I looked it up in the dictionary. According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of lull is

to cause to sleep or rest

to cause to relax vigilance

a temporary pause or decline in activity

a temporary calm before or during a storm

When I think of a lull, the first image that comes to mind is peace and calm. I think of winding down to rest or hearing a lullaby to induce sleep. Some of my more woo-woo friends refer to this as the void or a womb space, before birthing something new.

This describes my mood at the moment. I have no goals or ambitions except to move forward with my life. I don’t feel any rush or hurry to find the next thing. I have resolved to make no impulsive decisions or sudden moves before June 30. It feels like my life is going to get hot in the third quarter, and there will be a major rebirth and change, so right now I need to get my life rhythms and routines in order to be grounded in my own life and be prepared for this new life that is coming

Momentum and then consistency

I signed up for the Chase 5K that is sponsored by the Golden State Warriors. I signed up before I knew that long-distance running was not recommended for some of us with Crohn’s disease.  This is only a 5K, so it’s not too bad, but I haven’t run in a few weeks, so I thought I’d better brush up on my jogging to make sure I have a respectable showing at the race. I was taking a Peloton running class with Jon Hosking, and he said something that resonated heavily with me. “We have momentum, and now we need consistency.”  We all get excited about momentum and when we feel like life is driving forward. At the beginning of the month, I was running laps around my house because I knew the season had changed in my life, and I felt a big shift in my energy. I had a lot of momentum that following week, but the energy died down. Now comes the hard part. I can’t rely on momentum and excitement to carry me forward. I have to rely on consistency, and I believe the best way to build it is to establish rhythms and routines.

Rhythms and routines help eliminate a lot of decision-making, making behavior more automatic to build good habits.  I sense that as my life takes off and becomes more complicated, my rhythms and routines will be my bedrock for staying grounded and will help me avoid getting overwhelmed.

Last week, as I prepared for the official change from Winter to Spring with the vernal equinox, I embarked on a five-day fast, journaled, and developed my rhythms and routines for this season to build consistency and keep moving forward.

Rebuilding, Restoration, and Revival

Rebuilding, restoration, and revival need to occur in calm environments with limited activity to maintain focus and avoid distraction.

Imagine rebuilding and trying to restore something that has been destroyed amid chaos. Imagine an unfocused and distracted medical professional trying to revive a patient. It would be a mess. I believe I am in this lull because I need to maintain focus and avoid distraction. I must be grounded and have a mindset that helps me make wise decisions and prevents impulsive actions. I am so ready for the new thing that I risk just saying yes to opportunities that are not right for me because I am ready for something different.

Every week, I ask God, “How much longer do I have to keep doing this? When do I get to move on? When is the change going to come?”

This lull is providing me with the time and space to get my bearings, rebuild my life and connections, restore estranged relationships and mindset, and experience a personal revival. I have told multiple people that I feel like I got out of prison or like I’ve resurrected from the dead.  Even simple things like hearing songs I haven’t heard in years are helping me come alive again.

I am continuing to reconnect with people I love, respect, admire, and enjoy. It is amazing what a difference this has made in my life. The first three months of 2026 have been better than the last five put together, and the number-one difference-maker is the people. I won’t take them for granted again.

A lull feels uncomfortable for most of us because our society says we must be producing and taking action at all times, but sometimes the best thing to do is to enjoy the space of nothingness, allowing rest and recovery to quiet so we can hear the whisper of what’s next.

Seeds need time to grow, and seasons need time to change.

A lull will do you good if you allow it.

Happy Spring!