To Everything There is a Season

My dad does this weird thing where he can think of and, of course, start singing a song for any situation.

Anything.

My sister and I recently talked about this. It is crazy.

I remember her screaming, “DAD! STOP. You have a song for EVERYTHING!”

In the background of her screaming you could hear things like, “You can’t always get what you want…” by The Rolling Stones or Frankie Valli’s, “Big girls don’t cry… They don’t *CRY-I-III.*“

I could commiserate with her frustration. It was annoying. Especially when you were fifteen wanted to go to “so and so’s” party or were begging to be allowed more than ten text’s a month.

I mean, seriously. Come on, DAD!

But, now that I am over halfway through my twenties something funny has happened: Those “weird” or “annoying” things about my mom or dad… are now things that I (scarily) do.

My mom comes out of my mouth more than I care to admit. And, my dad’s music on the mind trait is now my own. I also might add, even though this is kind of embarrassing, the music on my mind is usually songs that he would listen to.

… With the exception for T-Swift’s “Shake It Off.” Hey, what can I say? I work in sales.

The current tune running thought my head is “Turn, Turn, Turn” by The Byrds.

Well, actually the song was originally by Pete Seeger and was titled “To Everything There is a Season.”

It is that exact verse that runs through my head at least five times a day as I stare out the window at the, now, very frozen and snow covered piece of land that once was my booming garden.

I miss it.

I wish I could run out there and grab all the fixings for a wonderful salad at lunch.

I wish I could spend an hour in the morning before work tending to it and getting a little Vitamin D.

I wish my Instagram was full of things like this:

Or this:

Or this:

I wish Adam and I could walk out there in the late evenings with a glass of wine and admire what had popped up since the night before.

But,

To everything, there is a season,
And a time to every purpose under heaven.

There is a purpose to this time of year and the purpose is to rest.

Just like a strong athlete, the garden needs this time of oscillation.

Both the athlete and the garden, are pushed hard and to their limits in order to get stronger, faster, better.

But, if an athlete were to be constantly exerting himself he would likely strain or even hurt his muscles to the point of damage. In fact, it is proven that continuous training can weaken the strongest athlete.

However, the best athletes know that by stepping back, taking time away from the gym and recovering, their body will repair and strengthen itself allowing them to perform at their peak.

Real growth is found in the rest.

Quite the opposite of what our world seems to tell us, right?

We are encouraged to go, go, GO! Told that good things come to those who hustle. The guy who busts his butt working weekends and well into the evenings gets the promotion… and becomes the example.

But, all the while, no one wonders if we could be doing damage or making ourselves weaker.

Perhaps we should follow the lessons that are found in nature.

Athletes need to take a break from the weights to build up strength.

Babies and teenagers sleep so much because they are growing like crazy.

Studies have even shown that without sleep healthy and strong adults impair their motor and cognitive traits, similar to being drunk. (Spoiler Alert: The drunk guy never gets the promotion.)

Seasons existed before life.

And, there was quite some time that life reflected the seasons.

There was a reason to each season. A purpose.

So, as much as I love busy and vibrant August in the garden; When January comes, I smile as I take time to step back and just watch the snow fall on that corner of my yard.

For, without January there would be no August.