A Sacred Season of Slow...

Unique Perspectives: A Sacred Season of Slow...

By Kim Stevens

A Sacred Season of Slow…

I’ve come to realize that life is always speaking… even when it feels quiet. Especially when it feels quiet.

I’ve always loved the idea of seasons. I’ve used it so many times to help me through something tough—because knowing it’s only a season, and won’t be like this forever, helps me show up in a way I’ll feel proud of later.

There are seasons of momentum, the buzzing chapters where everything is happening at once and life feels loud. And then there are the other seasons, the slower ones. The ones that can feel like a lull, a pause, or even a void if I’m not careful.

What I’ve come to learn… or really, to appreciate, is that the slow seasons aren’t a problem at all. They’re sacred.

I’ve always craved the quiet, but for a long time, when things slowed down I would get uneasy and start to think something was wrong—like I was falling behind or losing my edge. Now I see that the quiet seasons are where the real magic happens. They’re not empty; they're spacious. They’re clearing a path for what’s next. They’re letting me breathe, recalibrate, and hear what I simply couldn’t hear over all the noise. All the doing.

I felt that the other day. We had a snowstorm in the Poconos and almost everything shut down. Ahhhh… a day with nowhere to go and no one to be. A day where life whispered, “You can rest here. You’ve got room today.”

And that’s what keeps landing for me:  Life doesn’t stop speaking when things slow down. It speaks differently. In whispers instead of sirens. In nudges instead of demands.

Sometimes it’s the glow of sunrise slipping through my bedroom window. Or a thought from a conversation that lingers longer than expected. Or an idea that gently sweeps into my mind.

Slow seasons, or moments, or even single days, give me room again. Room to feel. Room to notice. Room to receive. Inspiration doesn’t have to be chased when I finally give it space to come to me. And I really LOVE the idea of allowing things to come to me.

Space is what I crave most today: More room in my schedule. More room in my breath.

More room in my mind. More room in my spirit.

I’m learning to trust that room and that rhythm… to honor the quiet. Because in the quiet, life softens me and reminds me of who I am. It prepares me for what’s coming, even if I have no idea what that is yet.

That’s where I’m landing this season. Creating space and listening a little more. Trusting a little deeper, honoring the quiet and allowing life to unfold.

Because sometimes a slow season isn’t a pause.  It’s a prayer.