
Deciduous trees lose their leaves at the close of fall and remain barren throughout winter. While these trees may initially appear lifeless, a closer look reveals they are actively preparing for continued growth in the spring. Their branches are covered in buds, small bumps that are often coated with sticky scales to protect against frigid temperatures and deter hungry insects. Inside each bud the materials needed for growth gradually develop. Cold temperatures allow gibberellin, a hormone that facilitates important growth processes, to be produced. Tiny leaves and flowers grow and wait beneath the surface for signals of spring.
The experience of winter plays an integral role in a tree’s development over its lifespan. We too, need the experiences that different seasons of life bring us.
Our Winter
For us, winter might be a season of waiting. A season of disappointment or grief. A season where our days seem to hold more darkness than light. We might feel exposed and cold. We might find ourselves longing for spring. For warmth. For recognizable growth—an indication that we aren’t mindlessly spinning in circles without purpose or direction. For hope.
It is my belief that as we slow down and look beneath the surface, we can find hope in the midst of winter. That the experience of winter is not without purpose. That in the process of leaning into our pain we begin to move through it. That leaning in is one way we can play a part in creating conditions that facilitate spring.
It isn’t easy. Holding onto these beliefs can give us the courage we need to begin.

Where do we start?
A more helpful question may be, “Where are we?”.
I am a fan of words—big words, small words, words that paint pictures and evoke emotion. A fun one that might be helpful for us here comes from systems theory.
Equifinality (isn’t that just fun to say?). It means there are multiple ways to reach one outcome.
As we look toward spring—toward renewal and healing—equifinality reminds us there simply isn’t one way to get there. While there are some overarching principles and approaches that generally tend to be helpful, there is no one size fits all approach. This can feel discouraging.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s a gift.
Because there is no one “right” or “sure” way, we are each tasked with finding our way. A task that invites us to look inside. This is where we start.
This is the gift.
To notice what it’s like to be us. In our body, with our experiences—our aspirations and fears. To sit with, respond to and engage with the parts of us that have been exiled. To know ourself. Greater compassion follows greater understanding. The way we move through our current season can become less formulaic and more intimate. Less outcome driven and more process focused. Knowing where we are—who we are—informs what our next step might look like.
Remembering that our path will likely look a little different than our neighbor’s can be helpful as we move through different seasons. As we learn about and try on different practices, we can, with patience, find how they fit or don’t fit for us. A practice of connection is one of those things that will likely look a little different for each of us in application and play an integral role in each of our stories.
Wired for Connection
We are biologically wired for connection— “from cradle to grave”—as John Bowlby put it. We need each other. There isn’t always something that will take our pain away, but having someone witness our pain and meet us in it can take the edge off. This kind of connection often allows us to move through pain with the comfort of knowing that while we may be hurting, we are not alone. It is my hope that this little corner of the internet can become a space for connection. A space where we can lean on and learn from one another. A place where we can provide encouragement and support.

Stay tuned for more on the parallels between human and tree development as well as practical ideas on how to navigate through challenging seasons with hope and courage. I would love to hear any thoughts or questions you might have. Feel free to leave a comment or connect with us on Instagram @budding.courage.
Until next time—take care.
