Learning to Trust the Pause: February as a Sacred In-Between 🌿
- jmshortt
- 41 minutes ago
- 3 min read
February is a funny little month, isn’t it?
Too late to be the sparkle of the New Year. Too early to be the full green exhale of spring. The decorations are packed away, the resolutions are wobbling, and the garden is still mostly asleep under a quilt of frost and mud. It’s not flashy. It’s not loud. It doesn’t demand much of us.
And maybe that’s exactly the gift.
February is the pause between breaths — and if we let it — it can become sacred.
Let’s talk about the gentle art of trusting the in-between.
The Quiet Middle No One Talks About
We’re taught to celebrate beginnings and endings.
New Year. Big launches. Harvest time. Finished projects. Before-and-after photos. Blooming gardens. Grand reveals.
But the middle — the waiting, the tending, the unseen rooting — rarely gets a parade.
February lives right there in that middle space. It asks different questions:
Can you keep going quietly?
Can you rest without quitting?
Can you nurture something before it looks impressive?
Can you trust what you cannot yet see?
Nature does this beautifully. Beneath the cold soil, seeds are softening. Roots are forming. Microbial worlds are busy beyond our sight. Nothing looks dramatic — but everything is happening.
Your life is allowed to look like that too.
The Myth of “Nothing Is Happening”
One of the most discouraging feelings is the sense that nothing is moving forward. That your goals are stalled. Your plans are slow. Your energy is low. Your progress is invisible.
But invisible is not the same as absent.
February progress often looks like:
reorganizing a drawer instead of the whole house
walking around the block instead of running a mile
reading two pages instead of two chapters
drinking more water
going to bed earlier
saying no once where you used to say yes automatically
These are root-level changes. Structural changes. Soil work.
Roots are not glamorous — but they are everything.
The Sacred Pause Is Protective
In farming and gardening, land is sometimes left fallow on purpose. This is not neglect. It’s wisdom.
Rested soil grows better crops.
Constant output exhausts the system — whether we’re talking about fields, creativity, or human hearts.
February gives us built-in permission to:
pause before overcommitting
reflect before pivoting
simplify before expanding
listen before acting
Instead of asking, “What should I produce right now?” February invites a softer question:
“What needs strengthening before the next season?”
That might be your health. Your schedule. Your boundaries. Your spiritual life. Your home rhythms. Your finances. Your rest.
Gentle Signs of Returning Light
And yet — even in the pause — February is not empty. Look closely and you’ll see the first shy signals of return:
longer daylight at the kitchen sink
birds getting louder in the morning
seed catalogs arriving like colorful promises
cravings for fresh herbs and lemon
the urge to open a window for “just a minute”
planning gardens, trips, projects, and recipes
Hope begins as a whisper, not a parade.
This is a planning month. A dreaming month. A sketching-in-pencil month.
You don’t need to build the whole garden today — but you can choose your seeds.
How to Practice Trusting the Pause
If you want to treat February like sacred in-between space, try a few of these cozy practices:
🌿 Keep a “Small Signs” Journal
Each day, write one tiny sign of progress or light:
A better mood
A completed task
A kind conversation
A new idea
A moment of peace
Tiny signs are often the truest ones.
☕ Create a Midday Reset Ritual
February energy dips are real. Instead of fighting them, ritualize them:
tea break by a window
five minutes of stretching
stepping outside for fresh air
lighting a candle before returning to work
A pause becomes sacred when it’s intentional.
🕯 Choose One Gentle Focus Word
Not a big resolution — just a compass word:
Tend
Simplify
Root
Warmth
Steady
Listen
Let it guide small daily choices.
📦 Clear One Small Space
Not the whole house. Just one drawer, one shelf, one basket. Physical clearing during an inner pause is surprisingly powerful.
Order outside helps patience inside.
You Are Allowed to Be Becoming
If February feels slow, muted, or uncertain — you’re not behind. You’re becoming.
There is deep dignity in unseen growth. There is wisdom in rest. There is courage in continuing quietly. There is beauty in the middle chapters.
Trust the pause. Trust the soil work. Trust the almost-there light.
Spring is not late — it is simply on its way. And so are you. 🌱
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