Spring Asks: Is It Safe to Emerge?
After wintering, how do we intentionally (and safely) come back out...
One of the themes that’s been whispering to me this spring is this question: Is it safe to emerge?
I imagine a root underground, slowly inching its way toward the surface. It doesn’t rush. It pauses often. It listens.
Is the soil ready? Is the sun warm enough? Are the conditions kind enough to grow?
That root feels like me.
After a long season of internal wintering - intentional and yet also somehow imposed - something in me wants to come out and be in the ecosystem of life again. But not in the ways I used to, not in the default ways I was taught.
Because the truth is, it hasn’t felt safe to emerge for a while.
Not in every space. Not with every voice. Not in every room where “wellness” is spoken but not always lived.
There’s a discernment process I’m in.
A quiet, often uncomfortable questioning:
Which spaces can I trust?
Which communities truly live the values they preach?
Which containers hold nuance, accountability, and humanity. And not just the polished branding, “love and light” bypassing, and profit-first kind.
I used to say yes more easily. (There’s loss here).
It’s okay though, because now I’m learning to ask more questions before I do.
This doesn’t come from fear - though yes, there has been fear.
It comes from a deeper kind of listening.
A rooted commitment to honoring what feels aligned and what is safe - not just what looks good from the outside.
Spring invites emergence.
But emergence doesn’t mean exposure.
It doesn’t mean rushing to bloom because the world expects you to be visible again.
It means choosing where and how you grow.
It means honoring the wisdom of your own soil.
It means saying: I will not emerge just anywhere. I will not bloom for anyone.
I’ll come into the light only where I am nourished.
Where my values are mirrored.
Where wellness means liberation, not escapism.
This season, I’m letting myself grow slowly.
Tenderly.
Honestly.
If you’re in that same in-between (not quite hidden, not quite revealed) know you’re not alone. You don’t have to rush the spring.
Maybe this year, we emerge on our own terms.
Big love,
D