#14 — The Loneliness of Planting Season

It’s the evening of Cinco de Mayo, and I’m enjoying a quiet night at home, listening to those AI-generated rain sounds on YouTube. Lately, I’ve been feeling lonely and more sensitive to noise while I work. I used to love listening to podcasts, but now I crave silence and soothing sounds. It feels fitting because after all, I’m in my planting season.

What is Planting Season?

For me, planting season is when I feel an itch to do, to create, to build, to dream. Recently, I got my dreams back, which felt like a gift. Each day, I imagine different futures and endless possibilities, so many that they sometimes feel overwhelming, even impossible. Still, I’m compelled to create because my spirit insists on it. The idea, the seed, wants to be planted and nurtured until it finally sprouts.

Loneliness in this Season

The hardest part of planting season is the loneliness. I rarely share my dreams with others; truthfully, I dread the judgment and the questions: Do you think that’s a good idea? How is this beneficial? How long will it take? Will it make you money? No one ever asks if what I’m creating brings me joy or any form of satisfaction.

We’ve forgotten that love and joy are worth labouring for.

Creation is worth the time and the struggle, even if others disagree. Sometimes, sharing my dreams too soon with others kills them in vivo before they have a chance to grow. Doubt creeps in, fear takes over, and I don’t even begin.

I’ve learned to protect my tender, sometimes silly ideas as fiercely as a dragon guards her eggs. I’ve had many ideas; most have failed, but some have blossomed, and I’ve cherished every moment of the journey.

Honouring Others in Different Seasons

This planting season is especially hard because I’m in a different phase of life than my friends and family. Most of them are in their harvest seasons, enjoying answered prayers, blooming dreams, and long-awaited joys. There are babies, graduations, new homes, beautiful cars, dissertations conquered, and businesses thriving. I celebrate with them, and I mean it. While I am genuinely happy for them, it’s sometimes difficult to stay the course when my own seeds are still underground.

Duality of Planting Season

This past weekend, I was supposed to write my next blog post. I usually blog on Sunday afternoons after church, with a stew simmering in the background. But this time, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt discouraged by low social media numbers and even lower website visits. The thought of learning a new way to post or getting on camera felt exhausting. For me, being seen is hard sometimes. Creating and sharing online feels vulnerable and scary, and there are days I don’t want to.

But then Monday came, and now it’s Tuesday. And with them, the realization that this is the duality of planting season: it’s scary and hard because you don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s also filled with hope, faith, and all the joyous possibilities…because anything can happen.

So if you’re in planting season too, I see you and honour your efforts. I hope you find the courage to keep going, to stick with it, and one day to revel in your harvest. I’ll be doing the same: sitting in gratitude for all my wild ideas, planting, tending, watering, and hoping. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn to enjoy the wait.

And yes, tonight I’ll start with this taco pasta I made for dinner. And with this blog—#14.