The season of spring

A warm breeze scorches my heart, silencing the hums wandering through my mind with its own voice. It feels as though it guides me; like a compass, I embrace it and follow wherever it leads. I do not know where it will take me, and honestly, I no longer question it much. It gives such comfort that it neither burns my heart too fiercely nor freezes it cold. This, I say, is the balance of life. Yet I know nothing can ever be purely black or white. But how many people have truly managed to master the color gray…

With a gentle warmth and intuition inside me, I set out on the road. I do not even carry a suitcase, though the matter at hand is not clothing. I remember the past, yet I let it go; it passes just as it came. Right now, I am holding onto this moment so I do not lose it… But the one who captures time is a connoisseur of it, and we are far from being masters of such an art. We learn clumsily; sometimes things fall apart, sometimes they flow smoothly. I suppose the real question is which path things evolve into, and that is impossible to foresee.

Sometimes, you are not ready before setting out. Even if you make plans, life does not unfold the way you imagined. And that is where I learn once again: a person prepares for the journey only after stepping onto the road. Perhaps you have no suitcase at the beginning, but in the end, you become someone shaped by all that you gathered along the way.

That is why I no longer wait to feel ready; I simply leap into the journey without knowing what it may bring… The anxiety of uncertainty no longer burns my heart because I have grown accustomed to this feeling. For years, I trained myself to live with it. Escaping was never my goal, yet over time, that was what it slowly started becoming. And when I realized this, I understood that it was time to put down roots.

What truly matters is where you choose to root yourself. Could I endure living through all four seasons there, accepting the repetition of an endless cycle? Perhaps unlike most people, I was always someone who grew restless within routine and believed that the strength to leave everything behind meant following oneself. Even when I found myself stuck, I never gave up on moving forward.

Seasons come and go, cycles chase one another endlessly, and I was always consumed by the thrill of breaking those patterns. But then, I began to turn into someone who could no longer find herself while endlessly chasing herself. I understood it when the time for rest and rootedness finally arrived.

Now, even though I love every season, I know I belong to one of them. My light shines brightest in summer. Spring is the herald of summer, and I welcome it with spring flowers. Ever since I was little, I believed that seasons allow the emotions inside a person to overflow and be released. Perhaps that is why I never loved either a heart burning under the sun or one frozen solid. But now, my hopes long only for sunny days.

I have survived the snow, the winter, and the rain.

Now, I welcome the summer.