Seasons of the Soul Part I

Rockport, Massachusetts
December 2000 . . .

I remember the first time I thought of my life in terms of the seasons of the soul. It was snowing hard outside as the fire crackled in the fieldstone fireplace of the cozy seaside inn where I was staying. I was happy to be alone so that I could reflect on my life in preparation not only for the upcoming new year but for the new millennium. In a month it would be Christmas and, within the week, it would be January 1, 2001, the dawn of the new millennium—the real millennium. Many thought 2000 was the millennium. Those in the know knew that the first year a.d. didn’t start at zero but after New Year’s Eve when the twelfth month ended.

What have I learned over the years about the human heart and soul? Reflecting on this question, I settled into the comfort of my surroundings; I felt a subtle serenity envelop me as Christmas tunes wafted to me from downstairs. “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose . . .” Nat King Cole’s dulcet tones trailed off and were replaced by Bing Crosby: “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, where treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow . . .” I’ve never grown tired of these two timeless classics.

It always tickled me how Irving Berlin penned White Christmas in June on a sunny Southern California beach. I once heard some supposedly sophisticated New Yorkers laughing about this fact. But when you think about it, it makes sense. Why couldn’t someone be pining away for a back East white Christmas under such steamy circumstances? That’s what daydreams do; they often transport us to another time . . . and place. . . .
Looking back over my life in an effort to consider what I had learned, I began to experience my soul’s time on earth as divided into seasons. The answer as to what I learned in my life was contained in the insights delivered to me during the different seasons. The soul of each of us goes through the hope and promise of spring’s budding and blossoming. This is followed by the ripening heat of summer. Then come the harvesting reflections of autumn with her array of colors.

As for winter, I see her as the season when the soul is set free to embrace everyone and everything with love as pure as fresh-fallen snow. For snow has a way of embracing everything indiscriminately: it blankets the barren landscape of winter by covering everything in white. The rust and dents of old abandoned cars and bare brown yards are transformed as their imperfections are embraced by a soft white blanket. Thus, the proverbial winter wonderland is born. I think of the classic winter scenes of Currier & Ives.

A mystical experience I had in 1995 catapulted me headlong into the winter of my soul’s sojourn on this small planet. However, it is important to note that the seasons of the soul are not about our body’s age; they’re about our soul’s ripening. I’m convinced that some children come into this world as winter souls. They begin and they spend their lives as a beacon of light for those lost in the dark night of pain and suffering.

Similarly, the stages of life can be divided into seasons that provide different conditions and elements for the seasoning of our soul. Childhood provides the opportunity to develop the hope of spring; our whole life is ahead of us. In adolescence and young adulthood, we experience the passions of summer. Middle age offers the chance to reflect on our life and its meaning. As our body, our soul-suit, enters old age, we have the chance to develop wisdom.

It has become clear to me how every day our soul encounters the promise of the seasons: every morning is like spring as we have the chance to start the new day filled with hope; by late morning and early afternoon, summer sets in and we have the chance to passionately pursue our work. By late afternoon and until the sun sets, we have the chance to reflect on our day. As night descends, we enter winter; the moon and stars decorate the black velvet blanket overhead. Eventually, we lie down and exit the conscious waking world and enter the world of sleep and dreams.

When we awaken, a new day begins and the daily cycle of our soul repeats itself. This daily cycle seems to mirror the concept of multiple lives. Each new day, like each new life, offers our soul a chance to become fully evolved.


• Today, take a moment and begin to reflect on the seasons of your soul. I'll say more about the seasons of the soul next time.