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Spring Is Calling A Gentle Invitation to

Dust Off Winter and Begin Again

 

Hello, my friend,

Spring is just around the corner. I can still remember how my grandmother’s eyes would light up at the first signs of it.

Every year, for two weekends, we would pull out our “cleaning clothes” and dive into deep cleaning her little house from ceiling to carpet. When I was about thirteen, I threw a dramatic tantrum because, in my teenage wisdom, I did not want to give up two precious weekends to scrubbing.

Instead of scolding me or grounding me she listened. Then she shared what she loved about this ritual.

It wasn’t just about cleaning the house. It was about cleaning the soul.

Letting go of things that no longer served a purpose wasn’t just tossing clutter away; it was making room for new things to enter our lives. And donating those items? That brought joy to someone else, too.

There were treasures she never parted with like her glass swivel stick collection from her younger days, when she and my grandfather had been partners with another couple in a lakeside bar. Every year, as she brought them out to clean, a smile would cross her face. She would tell me the stories behind each one (and there were many!).

Back then, she handled the vendors at the lakeside bar and did all of the purchasing. She had a remarkable way of listening to people, getting to know them, and learning about what mattered to them. Through those genuine connections, she was able to get excellent deals. Meanwhile, her friend handled the books, my grandfather cooked, and the other man tended the bar. Let me tell you, I have seen my grandmother negotiate, and I can only imagine how formidable she must have been in her younger years.

After deciding what to donate, we would roll up our sleeves and start cleaning. My jobs were washing the windows and washing and repairing window screens and scrubbing the walls tasks my grandmother could no longer manage. These had originally been my grandfather’s duties before his passing, and I often reminded my grandmother of him. I shared his chin, his height (though not quite as tall), and his build. She would always smile and tell me that I took after the Housholder side of the family.

One day, during our tea break, she explained the importance of these jobs. Clean screens let the soft spring breeze drift through the house, carrying freshness and renewal. Washing the walls wasn’t just about cleanliness it was about letting go of the heaviness of the past year and making room for joy and good things to stay.

My grandmother didn’t just clean her home each spring she also made small adjustments to her habits and routines. As she would say, “I want to try something new.”

If a habit or routine no longer suited her, she wasn’t afraid to experiment. She would try doing it a different way, and if that didn’t work, she would simply switch back until she thought of another way to approach it.

To this day, I find myself doing the very same thing. When a habit or routine isn’t working, I will “try something new.” If it doesn’t feel natural, I simply switch back and try again later in a different way until I find a rhythm that feels right.

This spring, I’m planning to follow her example by adding something new to my own routine Tai Chi. It may take a little time to adjust to making space for it in my day. Maybe I’ll start by practicing in the morning. If that doesn’t work, perhaps I’ll try during my lunch break or in the evening.

Like my grandmother taught me, sometimes the key isn’t forcing something to fit perfectly the first time it’s simply being willing to try something new and see where it leads.

Maybe I will join a Saturday Tai Chi class held in a park so I can enjoy the feeling of sunlight on my face and breathe in the fresh spring air, taking in all the earthy scents around me. Or maybe Saturdays will simply become a day for a walk in a local park possibly with my husband.

There’s just something special about walking through a park in the spring. The scents in the air, the warmth of the sun, and the quiet signs of new life always seem to lift my mood and give me that little extra boost of energy.

After my walk, I might come home and fix a lighter lunch perhaps a simple bowl of soup like chicken noodle or vegetable beef with a light garden salad. Or maybe just a good old-fashioned chef salad.

Spring often brings these small shifts naturally. After months of hearty winter meals and quieter days indoors, many of us begin to crave fresh air, lighter foods, and a little more movement.

As I think back on those spring weekends with my grandmother, I realize now that she was teaching me much more than how to clean a house.

She was showing me how to welcome a new season with intention. To clear away what had grown stale, to appreciate what was still meaningful, and to stay open to trying something new.

Spring has a quiet way of inviting us to do the same.

Maybe it’s opening the windows and letting the fresh air move through our homes.

Maybe it’s stepping outside for a walk and feeling the warmth of the sun after a long winter.

Maybe it’s adding something new to a routine, or simply listening when our bodies begin to crave lighter foods and brighter days.

It doesn’t have to be a big change. Sometimes the smallest shifts bring the greatest sense of renewal.

So as spring begins to unfold around us, perhaps we can take a lesson from those simple rituals dust off a little of the winter, open the windows, and make space for whatever new thing might be waiting to grow.

Even though I never met my grandfather, I can picture him sitting beside her, quietly agreeing with the lessons she taught me. And in that moment, I feel the gentle thread of their guidance weaving through the seasons of my own life.