It finally feels like spring is arriving here in New England. The days are longer, the sun is brighter, and the birds are back. Just yesterday, I stumbled upon our first spring flowers and a very happy bee.
This moment feels familiar and special to me. For almost twenty years of my life, my world centered around it. Every year structured around this date.
The start of baseball season.
Most other kids experienced the year around the school schedule— starting in September and ending in a magical summer break. But not me.
Summer was my season of peak performance. Fall was the season of shifting down. Winter was the season of getting ready. And March 1st was when the year turned and the cycle began again.
When I retired from baseball after college, I lost this structure and seasonality. I entered the corporate world and my year blended into a monotony of similar weeks. The rhythm of the seasons softened to a faint whisper.
I became aware of how much our dominant activities and identities shape the flow of our lives.
My sister-in-law is a school principal, and so, the school schedule still dominates her life. Her year begins in September and concludes with her summer break. My friend is an accountant whose life unfolds around April’s tax deadline. His year builds toward this two-month sprint and concludes with his spring break.
When we jump into a new job or industry, its structure pushes back into us. When we pour ourselves into a new hobby or identity, its shape and seasonality flow back.
Work in sales and encounter the never-ending march of quarterly deadlines. Become an avid golfer and feel a subtle reorientation toward summer. Become a serious skier and experience a tip toward winter. Embrace competitive running and begin to see the year through the shape of the racing calendar.
These dynamics are personal and shift as our lives evolve. Yet, they leave marks— like water carving the landscape as it moves through it year after year.
Perhaps this is why becoming a gardener has felt so natural for me. Its seasons flow along the same well-worn path that baseball carved. Even after more than a decade of not playing, my body was still tuned to the shape of its seasonality.
In conversations with friends, some describe this seasonal structure emerging from within. Others experience it imposed from outside. The first feels fluid and enlivening. The latter feels rigid and stifling.
Maybe, a big part of our desire for independence and autonomy is a longing to shape the structure of our seasons. To bring awareness and intention to its deepening path. To embrace the natural rhythms of our lives.
The Pulse of Life
As I was reflecting on these dynamics,
tweeted: “I wish we were taught to manage our energy instead of just managing our time.” It reminded me of one of my favorite books, The Power of Full Engagement.In it, the authors argue that “Energy, not time, is the fundamental currency of high performance.” And, energy is made up of “four separate but related sources: physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.”
Because energy capacity decreases through overuse and underuse, “we must learn how to rhythmically spend and renew energy”
To increase our capacity, we must safely stretch beyond our comfort zone because “We grow at all levels by expending energy beyond our normal limits and then recovering.”
This rhythmic pattern and dynamic balance represents “the pulse of life”:
Embracing these natural rhythms helps us thrive and sustain. Balancing moments of peak effort with moments of deep rest. Shifting between seasons of peak performance and seasons of deep renewal.
Exploring Energy States and Shifts
There must be something in the air because a flurry of writers just shared ideas that connect with these natural states and rhythmic shifts.
wrote about the “The Primordial Force of Stoke”:“It feels like raw enthusiasm for life and the experience of being alive coursing through my veins, pervading every cell.”
This is a state of being I lost contact with in my shift from baseball to the corporate world. Then rediscovered through embodied movement, gardening, and hiking.
created a free nervous system self-assessment, that highlights how to improve your resilience, regulation, and recovery.Even after years of exploring Jonny’s work, the assessment highlighted ways I can tweak my environment to further nurture rest and rhythms in daily life.
shared a powerful piece exploring “When Safety Becomes Dangerous” on how trauma and psychological safety are intertwined with human capacity. I love his closing reminder:published “Drowning in Dopamine” highlighting how this neurotransmitter creates cycles of pleasure and desire in daily life:“Your ancestors fought saber tooth tigers; you can, too. Never forget who you are.”
“It was like for five minutes my life was glittering and wonderful, and then for the following hour it was dark and worthless.”
I believe the way modern life hijacks our natural dopamine cycles is one of the core contributors to the prevalence of addiction, obesity, and many forms of suffering.
It’s inspiring to see so many creative people exploring, experimenting, and sharing around these themes. To me, deepening into the rhythm and seasonality of life feels essential.
Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear from you on how you relate to the shape of seasons and natural rhythms in your own life. If you have reflections, please reach out in the comments or by replying directly via email.
Thanks Sam. I feel it may be an unfortunate component of modern times. Do you think kids naturally gravitate towards it because they live more in the moment, they are more present? And maybe the reason why a lot of people rediscover this as they get older is when they relearn how to be more mindful. When the pauses in life’s rhythms give us time to stop and be present. Sometime those pauses are thrust on us when we lose loved ones or when we experience health issues. Or sometimes they’re caused by more positive experiences like parenting or new hobbies. As I write this, I realise that they’re not stand-alone pauses they are an innate part of the rhythm. But the new awareness they bring can help bring the present into focus and that’s where the magic is!
Thanks for the link to your other post about Wintering. I look forward to reading it. I just knew that you’d know of Katherine!
Yes, I read Enchantment as soon as it came out. Highly recommend it. And now you’ve mentioned it, I feel that Springtime might be the perfect time for me to revisit it!
Hello from England where Spring has sprung too. The birds are getting more vocal at first light and green shoots are unfurling from the ground and the tree branches. I love how you write about embracing the natural rhythms of our lives. As I grow older and seemingly more aware, I notice how these rhythms have a huge impact on how we move in the world. How we participate, how we take action, how we respond or react to external stimuli. Our relationship with the present moment is intimately entwined with these rhythms.
Access to being more present, for me, is linked with awareness of my energy. How am I feeling? Why might I be feeling like that? Physical and mental. Reflecting on how my energy affects my current perception of reality. Small picture, present moment stuff but the big picture is the rhythms you describe and how they affect us. Lots to unpack and think about. Thank you. Thanks for all the links too.
Have you checked out Katherine May’s book “Wintering”? https://katherine-may.co.uk/wintering I think you’ll connect deeply with her writing. It explores a lot of the topics you mention in your article. She’s here on Substack too.