Spring Isn’t a Reset!

As the dawn chorus welcomes each day with a slightly clearer sky and brighter light, the edges of winter seem to be gently melting away to reveal a softer, fresher energy. With the Spring Equinox officially awakening the world again and reminding us of new beginnings, the Chinese year of the horse has also been manifesting a slightly faster rhythm. My postnatal work has gone from steady to full, though spring and its optimism often sees an influx in enquiries, but with new clients and babies, I am also mindful of how motherhood itself does not always mirror this season so exactly.

While spring may arrive outside, and plans and activities pick up speed, within the mothering journey it can still feel like winter in places. The cold spots of fractured sleep, repetitive days, and a body that still does not feel fully your own and the emotional load of caring for everyone are still present, and even the brighter mornings might not quite touch the heavy weight of exhaustion sitting in your bones.

Spring isn’t always a reset. Sometimes, its just a continuation and a carrying on. Mothering through the seasons can look more like a brief noticing of the daffodils while still holding overwhelm in one hand and laundry in the other. There can be space for hope and light on the outside, as well as intensity and tenderness on the inside.

I have found myself holding this space for all my clients in the last few weeks. As February rolled into March and the sun began to tentatively peak out behind the clouds more often, I recognise how each new mumma is saturated with messaging, constantly telling them each new chapter should be transformational and that with a change of season should come a change of mood, but sadly, sunshine doesn’t magically make things easier.

Nature reminds us not only that things grow, but that growth is rarely dramatic. It is a cyclical and gradual process, a consistently, quietly turning wheel. One season folds into the next, softens into another. There is only movement and change and the constant invitation to keep becoming. We grow and we transition in the spaces between. Just like motherhood. It isn’t linear and it doesn’t tie itself in a bow every time the weather shifts. It repeats and teaches us the same lessons, just in different ways. It asks us for patience, surrender, resilience and for more trust than we knew we had.

In the space in-between there can be a pause, not for life to stop or the demands to stop, but to carve out somewhere to land within it all. Last weekend, at the Mummas Rest workshop I facilitiated with Louise Rogers, I was reminded again of just how deeply needed these pauses are and also, how the messaging around rest, is so hard to navigate.

As doulas working in the postpartum period, we often say that rest is not a luxury, or an indulgence, but is something essential. Holding that specific space for Mummas last week, to soften and literally feel their nervous systems drop in real time, was incredible. I saw shoulders physically dropping, breathing deepening, faces changing and women remembering, if only for a few hours, what it feels like to be held rather than holding everything else.

One mumma said she felt better after those three hours, than she did after a full nights sleep. Rest is not only about sleep. It is more about giving the body and mind permission to receive the message that it does not have to stay ready and braced, that we can come back to ourselves, just for a few moments. That there is a kind of rest that lands on a deeper level and it is safe to feel its benefits and to feel it soften our bodies and help them unravel, but, as we are learning, rest, as an active exercise, is hard to sell.

This, in my view, is because we live in a world that unapologetically rewards productivity, praises coping and normalises depletion. A world that often asks mothers to keep going, to keep performing and managing and then convince them that collapse is self care if it happens in a nice bubble bath with an aromatherapy candle.

Real active rest is hard. It is scientifically based on a deeper healing which is far from glamorous. It is do-ing the hard work, asking us to physically slow down enough to notice how tired our minds and bodies truly are and take responsibility. To admit, out loud, that we can’t pour endlessly from an empty cup. That we need to surrender and consciously accept support and be witnessed in our weariness, showing ourselves enough self respect to truly believe that our wellbeing matters, even when no one is clapping for us.

And maybe that is why spring can feel so confronting too, because the space between blooming, brightening and stretching open can feel so huge when you are already vulnerable, and that contrast can ache. It can make you wonder why you do not feel more energised, hopeful and renewed. Yet, after my last few weeks, working closely with very new mums, as well as slightly older mums with older babies, I wonder if perhaps Spring is asking something else of us.

I wonder if maybe spring isn’t saying, begin again, but softly encouraging us to keep going gently and notice what is shifting, trust what is growing, even if it’s small. Maybe we can let ourselves feel supported by what is changing around us and not rush our own unfolding. To find compassion in truly owning our own journey, at whatever stage we are, because trees and flowers don’t bloom all year. The earth does not force growth before it is ready. The wheel gently turns, and turns and turns again.

Working with women, as mothers, in this tender time, and as winter has merged into spring over the last few weeks, has made me reflect on whether our work is not to reset every time the season changes, but to listen. Walking with a client's baby in the sling, mimicking a heartbeat with my hand, as I help them to settle, I am aware that life holds both movement and rest, growth and pause, becoming and being, especially in the first year, these early weeks and months of motherhood.

So, if spring’s arrival has not brought you transformation, and your soul isn’t singing along with the birds, that is ok. If the brighter, longer days just make you feel more tired, that is ok too. If you are craving a pause more than a push, that is fine. It is enough and that is everything.

You are finding your own space in-between, where you can breathe more deeply, rest more gently and heal the areas you need to heal. You do not need to become someone new this season. You just need to be you, whatever the season.