Every year, I am more and more impressed with the range of Mother Nature’s expressive voice.

Through every season, she sings different songs, and if we listen closely, those songs can inform the cycles of our soul’s internal seasons as we move through life.

In winter, Mother Nature is silent. Only those with eyes to see and ears to hear can recognize her in the barren landscape with its cold and snow, while everything else hibernates and rests.

Just as nature grows quiet in the winter, so is it a cosmically blessed opportunity for our souls to be still and listen for the gentle guidance of the holy one in our toned-down lives.

In spring, her maiden voice incarnates in the new buds opening into blossoms and new life born in the animal kingdom. As the season progresses, the world comes alive after the cold, dark winter with a colorful palette of floral beauty.

So, too, do our spirits come alive in ways we had previously not expected. Each new spring is a rebirth for the world and for all who live here.

In the summer, Mother Nature is in full-on flaunt mode. Everything is green and growing, verdant and lush. Think old-school Whitney Houston with her full, majestic voice. In summertime, nature is queen.

Life is easy – or at least easier than usual. Days are long, and most of us are more active. Maybe our reflective lives take a bit of a back seat as the summer sun pulls us out into the world.

Now we are midway through autumn, and this season is a master class in letting go of who we think we are.

Mother Nature’s voice in early autumn is at its most brilliant. The colors inspire awe and reflection. But then the leaves fall, the temperatures drop, and all of life begins to withdraw into rest.

Every season is an expression of God’s intellect and creativity, but to me, autumn most signifies the wisdom that comes from allowing ourselves to shed the old narratives we have lived.

In autumn, we are asked to let go of the safety we have found in living a certain way and withdraw into a more contemplative way of life, allowing the holy spirit to quietly go to work on us in the depths of our souls.

While the holy spirit works in silence, we often don’t know what is taking place. We might feel lost and in a liminal space. Autumn asks us to trust that even in the loss and letting go, new life in a new form will be waiting for us on the other side.

Sometimes the autumns and winters in our souls seem to go on forever.

We get restless, wondering if the best of our lives is behind us, wondering if we will ever feel fully alive or purposeful again. These barren seasons of the spirit can be excruciating.

Just as we are on the brink of despair, however, something seems to soften. A new little bud appears in the story of our lives, and all of those long, dark nights of the soul when the holy one was working deep in the background of our lives begin to reveal their meaning.

I have been in one of these autumn/winter periods for a long time now, no longer feeling comfortable in the past spring and summer I lived but not knowing for sure what creative form the future holds. In the meantime, I have been trying to force various projects that just haven’t taken root.

I don’t think my experience is unusual for those of us in midlife. We are in a liminal space. Our task is not to do, but to be.

And so, we wait for the first light tune of spring, knowing she always arrives in our lives exactly when she is supposed to arrive.

SPIRIT MATTERS is a weekly column by Jerrilyn Zavada Novak that examines experiences common to the human spirit. Contact her at jzblue33@yahoo.com.