Maybe It’s Not Too Late to Begin Again

Recently, I came across a quote that read, “Spring is a reminder that everything in life can begin again,” and I remember thinking how perfect a sentiment it was, especially given that spring seems to arrive right at the time we need it most.

After the magical snowfalls that we longed for in December and the knee-high snowstorms we endured in January, come the dreary skies of March, with relentless winds, muddied ground, and air so frigid it seeps into your very bones. And just as most of us are contemplating our lives, wondering why on earth we live in a country with such brutal winters, and realizing that the goals and ambitions we spent days mapping out at the start of the new year have begun to fall off track and lose momentum, spring arrives right on cue.

It’s as though spring serves as a reminder that this perpetual cycle of high ambitions and peak productivity we begin the year with, followed by the gradual fatigue and loss of momentum that inevitably sets in, rounded off by the lull and pause that force us to recover, is simply part of one of the most natural cycles of life. We, too, are moving through the seasons, just as nature does. And just as spring comes back around, it almost feels like a sign for us to begin again. To pick things back up and try again, but this time with a little more understanding and kindness toward ourselves.

I started this year with many intentions, most of which were deeply tied to rediscovering myself and aligning with the person I wanted to become. And as is often the case, the plan I had laid out, and was surprisingly doing a pretty good job following for the first two months, began to slip by March. Some goals have stalled, others haven’t been given the time and attention I intended, and a few have completely faded into the background of my mind. Despite this, as I thought through all of these goals, I found myself focusing more on what I was able to hold onto, rather than on what I had allowed to slip. And since one of my core intentions has been to look at things through a lighter lens, and practice a gentleness toward my thoughts, I’d say that this change in perspective puts me right on track for at least this one goal.

Another goal that I’ve managed to hold onto is reading.

This year, I set out to read twenty-five books, which is a little outrageous considering last year I’m not sure I had even managed ten. According to Fable, I’d only read five, the last being in July 2025, after which my digital log suggests I simply stopped reading altogether. I’m fairly certain, however, that has more to say about my inability to really track anything I do digitally, as opposed to my actual reading habits. Even so, the point remains that last year, not enough time was dedicated to filling my mind with words and stories that absolutely captivated me.

But this year, I wanted to change that by not only reading more, but reading better. To actively engage with the stories that I love; to pay closer attention to how stories unfold, how characters evolve, and why some sentences are more unforgettable than others. Part of this is because I simply enjoy being completely immersed in a story, but another part is because I hope to better understand the kind of writing that can bewitch us into hours spent with a book, in the hope that I too can learn to cast such a spell with my own words one day.

To support this goal, I’ve compiled a growing list that is equal parts intellectual and indulgent. So far I’m on track; I’ve read five books in three months and am making my way through my sixth and seventh. Admittedly, a large part of that list is more indulgent than intellectual, as it consists primarily of books from the Throne of Glass series. But I make no apologies, as my first intellectual read this year was 1984 by George Orwell. And although I accept that it is a modern classic that everyone should read, the three months it took me to finish were torturous and nearly derailed this love of reading I’ve been so intent on nourishing.

The best part about this goal is that it has not only brought me back to reading, but also to writing. I’ve been tracking my finish dates, logging my ratings, and capturing favourite quotes and thoughts in a good old-fashioned notebook. This simple act of writing about something has slowly but surely opened the pages back up for me to write about anything.

So perhaps that is what spring is offering me once again. Not a major reinvention or quick progress, but merely a quiet return. A reminder that not everything has to be done flawlessly to continue to grow. That sometimes a book kept by your side, or a few lines in a notebook every now and again, might be a small yet very necessary step in the process of allowing ourselves to bloom.