The Sacred Cycles of Life

Everything in life moves in rhythms—a constant unfolding of birth, expansion, maintenance, decline, and death. We see it in the changing of the seasons, the cycles and rise and fall of the moon, the planting and harvesting of crops, the inhale and exhale of breath.

I am reminded of this now as I look out my window from my meditation room where I write each morning. The trees stand empty, stripped of their leaves, their branches exposed to the cold. Just months ago, they were full, vibrant, reaching toward the sun. Now, they stand bare, still, their energy withdrawn.  Their focus is not on outward growth but something deeper—restoration, renewal, preparation for what comes next.

They do not fight this process. They do not cling desperately to their leaves.  They do not resist winter.  They do not question stillness.  They do not mourn what they have lost, nor do they rush ahead, trying to force spring to arrive. They know that this season is as necessary as the one before. They trust that the cycle will turn again.

Nature does not resist itself.  But we do.

When we find ourselves in this same process—when we feel the pull to slow down, to release, to retreat inward—we resist it. We make it wrong.

We like to believe we are separate from nature—as if our existence is something independent, something superior, not subject to the same natural laws that govern everything else in this world around us. But no matter how much we resist, no matter how much we try to control, push, force, or deny—we are not exempt from the cycles that turn the earth, shift the seasons, and pull the tides.

The Moon, The Body, and the Unseen Forces That Guide Us

One of the most profound cycles in nature is that of the moon. The moon moves through a predictable rhythm, from new moon to full moon and back again, reflecting the very essence of growth, expansion, decline, and rebirth.

Throughout history, the lunar cycle has been linked to human behavior, emotions, and even biological rhythms. In many ancient cultures, the phases of the moon were seen as powerful forces affecting everything from harvest cycles to human fertility.

There is evidence suggesting that women’s menstrual cycles were once more closely aligned with the moon’s 29.5-day cycle.  Women in close communities often experienced synchronized menstrual cycles, with their bodies following the lunar rhythm—menstruating during the new moon and ovulating with the full moon. Some research supports this, suggesting that moonlight may have played a role in regulating human reproductive cycles before the advent of artificial light.

Beyond menstruation, the moon has long been believed to affect human emotions, sleep, and energy levels. Many people report restlessness and difficulty sleeping during a full moon, and some studies suggest that melatonin production—our sleep-regulating hormone—may be lower during this time. Others claim that hospital emergency rooms see an increase in activity during full moons, though science has yet to confirm a clear cause-and-effect relationship.

Regardless of what modern science confirms or denies, one truth remains: we are not separate from nature. Whether or not we consciously recognize it, we are deeply affected by these unseen rhythms, just as the ocean is pulled by the tides.

When we are in our seasons of growth and expansion, we celebrate it. We bask in the momentum, in the aliveness of it all. We feel good, energized, creative, and inspired—and we believe this is how we are supposed to feel all the time.

But when the cycle turns, when we begin to feel down, disconnected, heavy, and unmotivated, we judge it. We call it bad, wrong, a failure.

And this is exactly where I find myself now.

The Natural Rhythms of The Soul

2024 was a year of re-birth and expansion for me. I felt like I was stepping into everything I was meant to be—owning my story, claiming my voice, creating, expanding, being seen. There was a momentum, a clarity, a fire inside of me that was undeniable.

But as the months passed, as the year came to a close, I felt the shift. My energy changed.

Right now, I feel slower. My energy is lower. My emotions feel heavier.

I was pulled into a different season—one of slowing down, of release, of death.

And for a while, I thought: What is wrong with me?

It wanted to fight it, judge it, make it wrong. I would ask myself—Why are you feeling so down? Where did your excitement, expansion, and energy go? You were on fire—what happened to you? 

But the truth is—nothing is wrong.

I was shedding. I was releasing. And now, I am preparing for what comes next. Just as the trees shed their leaves, just as the moon disappears into darkness, just as the earth goes still before new life emerges again—I am now in a season of death. And, as much as I want to fight it, it is normal.

I am not alone in this experience.  This is the part that so many of us resist. We have been conditioned to believe that productivity, movement, and progress are what give us value. If we are not creating, producing, expanding, or achieving, we are failing.

But nature tells a different story.

Nature tells us that without this phase, there can be no rebirth. That without rest, there can be no energy. That without stillness, there can be no movement.

We are not meant to be in constant growth.

The Cycles of Nature and the Cycles of Us

Nature moves in cycles that are both predictable and essential. Each phase has its purpose, its wisdom, its necessary unfolding. 

The germination phase is the beginning, the place of potential before anything takes form—the ideas, the dreams, the whispers of something wanting to be born. Then comes the birth phase, the awakening, the energy rising, the movement forward. This is the time when everything feels alive, expanding, and unstoppable. Next is the peak of expansion, when things reach their fullest expression—the trees in full bloom, the moon glowing at its brightest. This is when we feel most powerful, most aligned, and most visible.

And then the cycle shifts. The maintenance phase begins, a slowing down, a quiet preparation for what is to come next. What once thrived begins to decline, and energy starts to pull inward, signaling that a season of release is near. And then comes the death phase—the trees shed their leaves, the brilliance of the day shortens, and the earth becomes still.

And yet, when we find ourselves in this phase, we resist it. We believe something is wrong. We forget that this cycle is just as sacred as the rest. Death is not the end. Beneath the surface, life is still happening. The trees are not dead, they are preparing. The seeds beneath the ground are not gone, they are germinating. The animals are not lost they retreat to the warmth of their homes.

What If We Stopped Fighting It?

What if, instead of judging these slower seasons, we leaned into them?

What if we trusted that just as spring always follows winter, our own cycles of growth and renewal will return?

What if we could see that this phase—this season of rest, reflection, and even grief—isn’t an ending, but a necessary preparation for what comes next?

Spring will come again.

I don’t have to force it. I don’t have to make it happen faster.

I just have to honor where I am.

And so do you.

Where Are You in Your Own Cycle?

Are you in a season of expansion—feeling alive, creative, and on fire? Are you in a season of slowing down—feeling the pull to retreat inward? Or are you in a season of death—letting go, shedding, surrendering?

Whatever phase you’re in—honor it.

You are not wrong.
You are not behind.

You are simply in your rightful place within the cycle of your own becoming.

Because this is the natural rhythm of everything that grows.

Maybe the lesson isn’t to push through but to surrender to the wisdom of your own winter.