Bloom Through the Chaos: Honoring Spring, Change, and New Beginnings

The first blooms of spring always hit me differently. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent enough years now understanding that nothing stays the same forever—neither the hard seasons nor the sweet ones. The air smells a little different, the light shifts, and suddenly, possibility seems to hang thick in the breeze. It’s as if nature herself is quietly whispering, “Now is the time to change, to bloom, to grow.”

The Equinox & The Power of Balance

This week, the Spring Equinox arrives—a moment in the year when day and night share equal space, balanced in perfect symmetry before tipping toward longer days. Ancient peoples, especially pagans, held the equinox as sacred. They saw it as a time of rebirth, fertility, and light conquering darkness. Their rituals celebrated not just the land awakening but also the shifting within themselves. Because just like the earth, they knew we, too, are cyclical.

I find deep comfort in that. It’s reassuring to remember that the world has always changed. That it’s meant to.

The pagans honored this moment with feasts and fire, seeds planted both literally and spiritually. It was a time to set intentions, to cultivate growth, to realign. And this year, standing at the precipice of the equinox, I feel more connected to that energy than I ever have before.

My Own Season of Change

Everything in my life right now feels like it’s spinning—breaking down, rebuilding, reshaping.

My marriage has shifted in ways I never expected. What once felt so steady has become a space of reevaluation, reflection, and sometimes painful honesty. We’re navigating new terrain, unsure at times where the path leads but committed to walking it authentically, even if it’s uncomfortable.

At the same time, I’m supporting my mom through her cancer journey. Watching someone you love so fiercely confront their mortality—it cracks something open inside you. Priorities shift. Petty worries fade. And you begin to understand just how precious, and how fragile, our time here really is.

I’m raising my son amid all of this, trying to teach him resilience and tenderness. I want him to see that change isn’t something to fear but something to lean into, something that shapes us into fuller, wiser versions of ourselves. I want him to know that life is always moving, always cycling through its own seasons.

And professionally? I’m in the thick of it there, too. Changing jobs, reimagining my business, rebranding what I’ve built from the ground up. Pink Cloud is evolving, as am I. It feels vulnerable—like peeling away an old layer of skin—but also exhilarating. There’s freedom in recognizing when it’s time to step into something new, to honor who you’ve become instead of clinging to who you used to be.

Planting Seeds

Spring is the season of seeds. Seeds that, on the surface, look small, insignificant even—but beneath the soil, there’s this powerful transformation happening unseen.

That’s exactly how this moment feels for me. I’m planting seeds everywhere: in my relationships, in my creative work, in the quiet moments of healing with my family, in the way I parent, in the way I show up for myself.

It’s messy, and uncertain, but I trust that something beautiful is taking root.

The equinox reminds me that light always returns, that after the long dark winter, we get to begin again. And if the earth can survive cold nights and barren stretches to bloom in ways more vibrant than before, maybe we can too.

So this spring, I’m honoring the change. I’m lighting my candles, tending my metaphorical (and literal) garden, and letting go of the fear. There is magic in the mess, beauty in the in-between, and power in becoming.

Here’s to whatever blossoms next.