Every single spring (literally, every single one) I’m so annoyed at myself that I never planted any tulips or daffodils the fall before.

I drive down all the Niagara country roads looking like they have been sprinkled with flower confetti, making the world look so pretty and party-ready and I say to myself, “THIS FALL I WILL PLANT BULBS!”

But I don’t.


I think about it.

But I don’t do it.


It’s hard to plant something when you don’t see immediate growth.

Fall is a season when everything outside starts to die. It doesn’t feel natural to put anything into the cold, hard ground. It’s not inspiring as you rake up fallen leaves, pull out rotting plants and feel the air become cold – to plant something that you won’t see months later until the long, dark season ahead is over.

It takes faith to imagine what could be, when you are looking at what is. 

All those people with spring flowers in bloom right now? They saw beyond a season of grey, and looked ahead to a season of bloom.

Got to work, dug deep holes, planted and trusted that when the dark days were gone – something beautiful would emerge from the ground.

I need to be those people.

I think about our collective life right now. Even though it’s spring and the days are getting warmer and lighter – the world seems a little extra dark and cold these days. The ground feels harder this year, and the sunlight is working overtime as it struggles to break through.

It’s a season we haven’t had to live through before.

It’s even hard to agree, as we stand on this unfamiliar ground, on what life should even look like these days.

Some think planting is too hard, and too much pressure. Do what’s best for you right now, and if you can’t do anything at all – that’s ok. Don’t feel bad, times are diffifcult – do what you need to do to get through.

All this is true.

Some are the super planters. Taking advantage of each and every moment. No challenge is too difficult, and there is nothing that can’t be done. This is the time to do new things and make all your dreams happen.

This is true too.

It’s really a fine line between sowing, and pausing.

Tossing away the seeds, or digging with fervour and planting everything you can.

It’s a balancing act that I can’t get right in these unusual days. I keep falling off as I walk the shaky tightrope in between existing and doing. From day to day the balance is different, and the focus changes.

Should I keep planting?

Or, should I give up on this season?

A new one should come.

I hope.

But then, I drive down all the country roads around me and see all the pretty flowers. Those beautiful plants were planted in hard, cold seasons.  Someone had to break through the ground with a shovel, and remove whatever had died in the last season – and have the faith to see that something would grow in the future.

Even when the world looked bleak and cold, someone made the effort and had faith. Planted in a season that didn’t make sense, with the hope that beauty would bloom in the future.

It did.

And, it will.

So keep going.

Dig a few holes.

Plant a few dreams.

Work when you can.

Imagine seasons ahead.

Beauty that grows.

I’ve already started collecting bulbs to plant in the fall.

I’ve decided I will see growth.

Believing in what is ahead.