The Seasonal Layer — You're Not Behind. You're Just Not Letting Spring Do Its Thing (Maybe)
What If the Season You're Fighting Is the One You Actually Need?
There's a moment in every cycle where you can't tell if something is ending or beginning.
You're working. You're showing up. You're planting. And the ground just holds it. Nothing visible. No confirmation. No signal that any of it is taking root.
That's not failure. That's winter doing exactly what winter does.
The question isn't whether spring is coming. The question is whether you're willing to honor the season you're actually in — instead of demanding it behave like the one you want.
The Onion Knows
Onions planted in fall grow differently than spring onions.
Same seed. Same soil. Same hands doing the planting. Completely different internal timeline. The fall onion spends months underground, barely visible, doing invisible work in the cold. And when spring finally arrives — it's ready. Not because it rushed. Because it honored the season it was given.
Most of us are fall onions trying to perform like spring onions.
We plant in winter and expect summer results. We start something new and demand momentum before the roots have formed. We measure the season by what we can see — and what we can see in winter is almost nothing.
But underground? Everything.
The Chinese Farmer
There's a parable I keep coming back to.
A farmer's horse runs away. His neighbors say — terrible news. He says: maybe.
The horse returns with wild horses. His neighbors say — wonderful news. He says: maybe.
His son breaks his leg taming one of the wild horses. His neighbors say — terrible news. He says: maybe.
War breaks out. His son is spared from conscription because of the broken leg. His neighbors say — wonderful news. He says: maybe.
The farmer isn't numb. He isn't detached. He just understands something most of us spend years resisting — that you cannot know, in the middle of a season, what it is actually growing.
Maybe the dry spell is the training ground. Maybe the silence is the setup. Maybe the inflection point is closer than it looks.
Maybe.
What Spring Actually Feels Like
I know what my spring looks like. I've lived it.
Morning routines that hold. Showing up fully — for the work, for my wife, for my son, for the life I'm building. Intentional. Clear. Present.
I'm in that now. Not the external version — the internal one. The clarity is there even when the confirmation isn't.
And somewhere underneath all of it, something is waking up. I can feel it the way you feel a season change before the temperature actually shifts. Something in the air. Something in the work. Something in the way the vision keeps arriving exactly as I imagined it — when the words land right in these weekly open heart confessions, when the work comes together and you can feel it before anyone else sees it.
Something is gonna spring. It has to.
Honoring the Season
Here's what I'm learning about winter:
You don't push through it. You move with it (life's on the way, not in the way).
You do the work that winter asks for — the quiet work, the underground work, the work nobody sees yet. You protect the seeds you've already planted. You don't dig them up to check on them every day.
You show up for the people who are counting on you. You stay intentional. You stay clear.
And when someone asks how it's going — you say: maybe. Then you smile, give a two-finger salute, and walk away slowly.
Not because you've given up. Because you understand that the season decides its own timing. And your job isn't to rush it. Your job is to still be standing when it turns.
The inflection point is coming. I don't know which side of the collision I land on. But I know I'm at one.
Maybe that's enough for now.
Still here. Still planting. Still honoring the season.
Let go. Let God. Maybe is enough.
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The "Being Coached" Layer: The Border of Support and Challenge
This week, Dr. Goodman and I dug into the reality of the "waiting" period. It’s easy to settle into the cliché that you are "exactly where you’re supposed to be," but the deeper coaching truth is that maximal evolution only occurs at the border of support and challenge. If you are too supported, you stagnate; if you are too challenged, you break. The "Seasonal Layer" isn't about sitting still; it’s about finding that razor-thin edge where the friction of the current season is actually the kiln that tempers your next level of authority.
The wisdom of the wait is best captured by a proverb my wife heard firsthand while working for the legendary Prescott: Proper Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance. We often mistake winter for a pause, but in reality, it is the only time you have to build the infrastructure capable of handling the growth spring is going to demand. If you live long enough and stay open long enough, you realize the people and the "delayed" moments were never in your way—they were the preparation. Don't just be unattached to the outcome; be obsessively attached to the preparation.
The Takeaway for You: Stop treating this season as a holding pattern and start treating it as a stress test. Look at where you are being challenged right now—that is the exact border where your growth is happening. Use the silence of the wait to refine your systems and your message so that when the season turns, you aren't just scrambling to keep up, you're ready to lead.
Bookshelf Peeled - The Professional in Winter
This week, requires again "The War of Art" by Steven Pressfield. Pressfield’s most famous distinction is between the "Amateur" and the "Professional." The Amateur views a slow season—the winter—as a reason to stall, citing a lack of inspiration or "signal" from the market. The Professional, however, understands that Resistance is most fertile when the ground is cold. Resistance wants you to dig up your seeds to see if they’re growing. Resistance wants you to quit because no one is clapping yet.
Pressfield’s core lesson for is that the "maybe" of the Chinese Farmer isn't an excuse for passivity; it is the requirement for "Turning Pro." When you are in the quiet work—the underground work that nobody sees—you aren't just waiting for spring; you are doing your job. The Professional shows up regardless of the temperature, knowing that the "inflection point" is a result of the daily grind, not a gift from the weather.
The Takeaway: Resistance is a compass. If you feel a "war" inside you right now—a push to quit or a fear that you’re behind—it’s actually a sign that the work you are doing is vital. Don't judge the work by the harvest; judge it by your attendance. Showing up in the winter is what earns you the right to the spring.
The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles.
By Steven Pressfield
Design Rebel: The Seasonal Layer
This weeks inspiration was the famous "Maybe" of the Chinese Farmer parable. It’s a reminder that we can’t judge the value of a season while we’re still in it—sometimes the "bad news" is the setup for the "good news" we didn't see coming. The Tech: Visuals created with Sora, Leonardo.ai, and Veo 3.1. Edited with Wondershare Filmora. Voice by ElevenLabs using a refined English accent. Story and script by Martin Casado, refined by Gemini.
Weekly Inspired Insights I liked or found useful this week:
The synergy this week is undeniable: Jeff Moore (@JeffMoore__) nails the core of the Seasonal Layer by reminding us that the doubt and recklessness we feel in winter are actually the triggers for the growth and discipline we’ll harvest in spring. #jeffmoore
P.S. If this resonates with you, share it with someone. I'm dedicated to helping fellow explorers—or anyone who found this page—uncover their authentic self with humor and insight. We're all in this together, finding the courage to truly live from our core essence (or as close as we can get!).
The Intensity Layer: Your Unfiltered Potency
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