Nurturing the Seasons of Self

Aging, Nature, and Authenticity

In a world that often glorifies youth and resists the natural progression of time, the cycles of the seasons stand as a reminder of the beauty and the inevitability of change. Just as the Earth transforms her vibrant hues of spring to the warm embrace of summer, then from the golden shades of autumn to the stillness of winter, so do our lives follow patterns of growth, transformation, and maturity. These natural rhythms resonate deeply, especially for women, as we navigate the intricate terrain of aging, and the intimate connection between tending to the earth and nurturing one's own essence.

My journey through the seasons of self has always felt intertwined with the changing landscapes of nature. Born in the middle of September, a month that both holds my heart and challenges my spirit, I now find myself facing the milestone of turning 56 (gulp) in a few weeks. September has always been a time of paradox—a month of reflection, as summer fades into memory and autumn paints the world in hues of warmth and transformation. Beauty and change. Hot and cold. Growth and death. It begins as a fiery crescendo in the garden bounty and ends with the fading of the garden and the beginning of cold darkness. Every fall around my birthday, I feel that I too must acknowledge the passing of time.

One of the most pronounced ways I've chosen to acknowledge this progression is by allowing my hair to turn gray. Every new season of my life adds more strands of silver, glistening threads that have been woven through my experiences. While some women my age opt for hair dye to mask these signs of aging, I've embraced this natural transformation. As the years pass, my hair becomes increasingly silver and white, a reflection of the stories I carry with me. In a world that often expects women to defy the aging process, I stand white-haired in my choice to honor the passage of time and the stories it brings, while also acknowledging the bias that it triggers, as the whiter my hair becomes, the more invisible I become.

My connection to the earth, too, has grown more profound with each passing year. As the seasons change, I find solace in the act of digging my hands into the dirt, feeling the cool soil against my skin. Just as a gardener tends to her plants, I tend to the growth of the self. There's a therapeutic rhythm to the act of planting seeds, nurturing their growth, and witnessing their eventual bloom, and harvesting the seeds each fall. In the same way, I've learned to nurture the growth of my own spirit, to tend to the seeds of curiosity, resilience, and creativity that reside within me. Fall and winter is not an ending, but a promise of what is to come.

At this juncture of my life, I've been recognizing I possess a wealth of knowledge and experience that's meant to be shared. It's as if the accumulated wisdom of my years has reached a point of overflow, compelling me to write, teach, speak, and engage more. As an introvert, this transition has been hard. But this year, the process of creating an online course and platform for classes has become a part of my journey toward self-acceptance. It's an affirmation that I can feel comfortable sharing my work, my ideas, and my knowledge with the world, despite the inherent struggles that come with being an introvert.

You see, I've long struggled with the notion that teachers must be perfect (or that *I* must be perfect). I've carried the weight of perfectionism, believing that in order to teach (or write or create or share), I must embody an unattainable ideal. But the truth is, I'm not perfect. My house might not always be perfectly clean, the dishes might be on the counter, the garden might have a few weeds, and sometimes I might resort to boxed fried rice for dinner. I might not always be the perfect wife, mother, daughter, or sister. And guess what? That's okay. Nobody is perfect. It might seem absurd that it took me 55 years to fully embrace this reality, but in a diverse, messy, and ever-changing world, the pursuit of perfection is both futile and limiting and I know I am not alone in this.

The place of non judgment and introspection that comes from accepting imperfection is, in fact, a wonderful space for a teacher to inhabit. It's a place where authenticity thrives, where the messy realities of life are acknowledged, and where growth can truly flourish. It is a space where people can be themselves and learn and grow freely. As I get older, I'm realizing that the wisdom I've gained isn't rooted in being flawless—it's grounded in embracing the imperfections, learning from them, and using those experiences to connect with others.

And so, this newfound acceptance of imperfection is what propels me forward in my journey to teach, speak, present, and share more. It's the driving force that guides our path—a path that is perfectly aligned with the launch of this course in the fall - around my birthday. This synchronicity feels like synergy, a celebration of my transition into this next chapter of life. I feel like this phase is more than just teaching content - it's a testament to the power of embracing authenticity, imperfection, and the unique wisdom that comes from living a full and diverse life, and finding our way together in our commitment to ourselves, our families, and the planet. 

Turning 56 is a significant milestone (to me)—one that's met with a bit of emotion. Yet, as I reflect on the person I've become, I find comfort in the realization that age is not just a number; it's a reflection of the stories I've lived, the wisdom I've gathered, and the comfort I've found in my own skin. The seasons have taught me that just as spring transitions to summer, summer to autumn, and autumn to winter, my life too will evolve through its own seasons. And as the garden is always changing and not a static frame, so are we.

So, September, with its duality of emotions, has become a mirror of my own journey—a reminder to me that embracing the cycles of life means acknowledging the bittersweet beauty of change. Like the leaves that fall to the ground, I'm learning to let go of what no longer serves me, making room for new growth and experiences. Each passing year is a chapter in a story that I'm both author and protagonist of—a story that's uniquely mine and intricately woven into the fabric of the world around me.

So, as I stand on the threshold of 56, I welcome the autumn with open arms. I choose to let my gray hair shimmer like the silver threads of wisdom that they are. I embrace the act of digging in the dirt as a metaphor for nurturing not just plants, but the roots of my own being. And in the midst of it all, I honor the ever-changing seasons of my existence, finding solace, beauty, and authenticity in every phase of the journey.

Will you join me?

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A holistic lifestyle includes permaculture - it incorporates health and well being physically, emotionally and spiritually. It involves what we take into our bodies, what we think, believe, how we treat ourselves and how we treat others. Permaculture helps us to make the holistic lifestyle come full circle. Come to our Regenerative Herbalist Course Launch Party & Free Masterclass in October. Meet Denise, hear more about the course, and meet others with the same commitment to building a more sustainable (and regenerative) world. Click this link to get on our invite list.