Spring is finally here! Well, kind of…. The daffodils are in full bloom, as they peak through frosted mulch. The sky begins to shift from gray to blue, though there’s a morning chill in the air. The days are becoming longer and the nights are becoming shorter, slowly. We feel as if we’ve made it—made it through the dreary winter days. There’s that smell in the air that signals us to think of sundresses, lemonade, sprinklers, and popsicles; it’s as if we can taste the sun.

But, only quite.

Spring is much like life and its obstacles it throws at us. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, maybe even start planning for it by buying pool toys and sunscreen, prematurely thinking that we’re in the clear from cold weather…that we’re in the clear from our problems, from our worries, from the darkness.

But, just like how winter rarely disappears overnight, our problems are the same. There are always lingering details to work through or remnants to clean up.

We may see a solution or feel a shift in how we approach a situation but it takes time to be in the clear, to fix something, to make new habits stick. Yet every year when it turns April 1, no matter what is going on in the weather forecast, we automatically believe we are entitled to warm weather and blue skies. And, every year we are surprised when there is that last minute snow dusting and we’re still waking up in darkness at 6AM.

Why? Why do humans think that just like the seasons, our problems work the same way? No matter what the outside forces are, we believe we have control.

But, we don’t. Not always. Like daffodils shooting through the icy ground: they may be ready to bloom, but the weather isn’t necessarily ready for them. We may be ready for a change but when solutions and happenings are dependent upon other factors, we don’t always get a say on when that sunny weather kicks in.

Instead, we need to view that immediate satisfaction complex that we humans have like we should view springtime. It’s there; we can feel it; the calendar dates it, but we have to be patient with it.

Breathe in the knowledge that there is an end to a sadness or a setback, and breathe out the knowledge that everything resolves itself at its own pace.

Sometimes we have to kick back and watch life unfold just like we have to kickback and watch as the flowers hold their own through the last remnants of winter, waiting for the cold to be over, for their light to shine through, for their stems to be cut in order to become beautiful bouquets.

Life unravels at its own pace, and springtime is a prime example of that. So, whether you find yourself ready to complain about the winter weather still in tack or find yourself ready to throw in the towel on an ongoing issue, remember that this is all temporary. There is always a new beginning on the horizon, even if you can’t quite see it, yet.