Have you ever felt a deep sadness you couldn't name? An emptiness that persists even when your life looks "successful" on paper? You might be grieving the death of a dream that was never truly yours, mourning the life you were taught you should want. I know that may sound a little weird, and I invite you to stick with me!

This is the grief no one talks about. The career that looked impressive but crushed your spirit. The lifestyle that promised fulfilment yet delivered exhaustion. The suburban paradise that, if truth be told, felt more like a beautiful prison. The relentless pursuit of more that disconnected you from everything that matters; the changing seasons, your body's rhythms, the quiet moments that make you feel truly alive.

From childhood, we absorbed a specific formula for happiness: work hard, get a good job, buy a house, accumulate possessions, climb the ladder. Success meant busy calendars, full shopping trolleys, and growing bank accounts. The message was clear: more equals better, faster equals successful, and worth is measured by productivity.

Yet notice how nature operates. A tree doesn't strive to be anything other than itself. It doesn't apologise for growing slowly, and it doesn’t shed its leaves in autumn with shame. The morning glory doesn't worry about proving its worth; it simply opens to the sun each day and closes when darkness falls. Nature exists fully in the present moment, authentic and unashamed, never pretending to be different from what she is.

Many of us followed society's blueprint faithfully, abandoning this natural way of being. We studied for "secure" careers rather than pursuing what fascinated us. We accepted jobs based on salary and status rather than meaning and joy. We bought homes that looked right on paper but left us isolated from community and nature, filling our lives with activities and acquisitions, mistaking busy for purposeful.

Then, if we are lucky, something cracks the façade wide open. Perhaps it's a health scare, a global pandemic, watching your children's childhood blur past in perpetual overwhelm, or hitting a milestone birthday, realising you can't remember feeling genuinely excited about anything.

The awakening strikes: you've been living someone else's blueprint for happiness. WWhhhhhhaaaattttt! You've spent years chasing goals that were never truly yours, trying to squeeze your wild, creative self into a system designed to extract productivity rather than nurture the full spectrum of being alive.

Your body holds this grief in profound ways in response to us living against our natural rhythms, forcing productivity when your body needs rest, ignoring seasonal calls to slow down in winter or embrace renewal in spring. Your nervous system rebels against a way of life that treats you like a machine rather than a living being intimately connected to the earth's cycles.

You might notice shoulders perpetually hunched, carrying expectations that were never yours. Jaw clenching as you bite back words you long to speak. Shallow breathing from constant urgency, never allowing your nervous system to settle into deeper rhythms of safety and belonging.

But here's what makes this grief sacred rather than tragic: it's the doorway to your authentic life. Like the oak tree that doesn't question its right to grow towards the light, or the river that follows its natural course without apology, you too can return to your essential nature. Every tear shed for dreams that weren't truly yours creates fertile ground for dreams that are.

Nature shows us this truth everywhere, like how a forest burns without resistance, creating space for new growth. The caterpillar dissolves completely, trusting the process of becoming. The seed breaks open in darkness, never doubting its journey toward light. None of these transformations require proof of worthiness; they simply are.

When you can name what has lived unnamed in your depths, you find compassion to grieve what feels like wasted time. You're composting old dreams to fertilise new ones, honouring both who you were trying to be and who you're becoming. You're remembering how to exist like nature does, fully present, authentically yourself, without needing to prove your right to be here.

This grief is your initiation into a life aligned with your deepest truth. It's perhaps the most generous thing you can do for your soul, your family, your community, and our collective healing.

What authentic dreams are calling to you from beneath the grief?

Practical Wisdom for Your Transitions
If you're currently navigating a time of change, whether chosen or unexpected, here are some gentle reminders that might support you:
ㅤ1. Honour endings. Before rushing into what's next, take time to acknowledge what's complete. What gifts did this chapter bring? What lessons? What are you ready to release?

ㅤ2. Welcome the fallow time. The quiet space between endings and new beginnings may feel empty, and it's where integration happens. Like winter soil preparing for spring planting, this time is actively generating possibilities beneath the surface.

ㅤ3. Listen differently. During transitions, our usual thinking patterns may not serve us. Try listening through your body, through nature, through dreams. Wisdom often speaks in whispers during these times.

ㅤ4. Find your anchors. While embracing change, identify what remains constant for you, perhaps certain relationships, practices, or values that provide continuity amid transformation.

ㅤ5. Trust the intelligence of life. Sometimes the changes that feel most disruptive are actually life moving us toward greater alignment and authenticity, even when we can't yet see how.

Journaling Invitation
If you're feeling called to explore your own relationship with transition, here are a few simple journaling prompts you may wish to explore:
ㅤ◾ Think of a past transition that initially felt challenging but ultimately led to significant growth.
ㅤ◾What wisdom did you gain through that experience that might support you now?
ㅤ◾What would that version of you, the one who made it through to the other side, want you to remember during times of change?

I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences:

If nature could speak directly to you about your current life situation, what message do you sense it might have for you?

You are welcome to share your thoughts by sending me an email at linda@lindaconyard.com

​May you be well, may you be happy, may you have inner peace,