Hello all,
As I sit here today, the light has begun to change. That brilliant, stark white of mid-winter is beginning to soften and hints at what lies beneath the snow. Even as Luna and I watch the squirrels continue their acrobatic feats at the feeders, there is a new restlessness in the air—a quiet, insistent whisper that spring, with all its renewal and messy beauty, is just around the corner. Perhaps a bit of a stretch for winter in Maine, but I’ll cling to it.
In nature, spring doesn’t happen all at once. It begins with the smallest, invisible shifts: a softening of the earth, a sapling’s quiet preparation.
But what happens when your own season shifts far more abruptly than the calendar intended? Lately, I have been holding space for those who have just received news they didn’t see coming—a diagnosis or a clinical turn that suggests the end of life may be arriving sooner than anticipated. When the “winter” of one’s life arrives ahead of schedule, it can feel less like a peaceful snowfall and more like a sudden storm.
If you or a loved one are standing in that sudden chill, I want to offer a few “first steps” to help you find your footing. Much like preparing a garden for the first thaw, these steps aren’t about doing everything at once; they are about creating the right environment for peace and presence.
1. Pause and Breathe (The Sacred Interlude) The moment after receiving difficult news is often a blur of clinical terms and logistical panic. I invite you to simply pause. Before the phone calls begin and the calendars fill with appointments, take twenty-four hours—if you can—to just be. Sit by your own window. Let the news settle. You do not have to be a “warrior” or a “planner” in the first hour. You only have to be human.
2. Identify Your “North Star” Voice In the coming weeks, you will be surrounded by many voices: doctors, well-meaning relatives, and insurance providers. Now is the time to identify who will hold your “North Star”—the person who knows your soul’s values best. Is it a spouse? A grown child? A dear friend? Make sure they know that their role isn’t just to help you live, but to help you live your way.
3. Small Circles of Support You do not owe the world your medical history. As you prepare for the renewal of your spirit, consider who belongs in your “inner garden.” It is okay to limit your circle to those who provide energy rather than those who require it. Establishing a small, trusted communication chain now can prevent you from having to repeat your story a dozen times when you’d rather be resting or gently considering legacy.
4. The “Paperwork of Peace” While it feels clinical, there is immense spiritual relief in getting the logistics in order early. Locating your End-of-Life documents—or starting a simple Letter of Instruction—is an act of profound love for those you leave behind. It clears the weeds so that, when the time comes, only the flowers of memory and connection remain.
Just as the dormant winter garden holds the “leftovers from fall harvest” to sustain the birds, your life’s harvest is already within you. An unexpected timeline doesn’t diminish the beauty of what you have grown; it simply asks us to be more intentional about how we spend these coming days of light.
If you are navigating a sudden thaw or an early frost, please know you don’t have to walk the path alone. Whether it’s through consulting an EOL Doula or simply sharing a thought in the comments below, we are here to walk with you.
Today my hope words are: self-love, transformation, and peace. What are the “hope words” you are carrying into this changing season? I would love to hear them.
With warmth and energy for channeling those brighter days with great anticipation,
Carolynn