Even in uncertain times, the season turns — and so can we.
It feels impossible to ignore the heaviness of the world right now.
Every time you turn on the news, there are stories of hatred, genocide, established wars that continue grinding on, and new conflicts emerging before the old ones have even paused for breath. The world feels fractured in places that once seemed stable. My thoughts are with those who have been impacted directly by any of these traumas.
Here in the UK, it has felt as though we’ve been rained on every single day since the new year began.
Grey skies. Sodden ground. Mud everywhere.
Our future home — or what will hopefully at some point become our future home — currently resembles something between a quagmire and a test of faith. It’s hard to imagine it becoming anything else when you’re standing ankle-deep in waterlogged soil.
And yet.
Recently, the sun returned.
Not dramatically. Not for long. But long enough to remind me what light looks like after weeks of dullness. Long enough for smiles and optimism to return. Long enough to soften something inside me.
March has arrived, and with it the first visible signs of spring — my favourite season. The season of almost. Of not-quite-yet. Of promise rather than proof.
Even on our building site, snowdrops have appeared.
Tiny. White. Fragile-looking.
But pushing through desperate-looking ground as if to say: this is not the end of the story.
I find myself needing that reminder.
Because it would be easy, in this global climate, to let hope feel naïve. To think that optimism is indulgent. To decide that everything is too broken for renewal to matter.
But nature doesn’t wait for perfect conditions to begin again.
It responds to cycles.
It trusts them.
Over the past few weeks, as I’ve spoken about changing the shape of my work for 2026 — slowing down, simplifying, speaking more honestly — several people have mentioned the impact of the change from Chinese Year of the Snake to the Year of the Horse.
I’ll admit, I hadn’t given either much thought before.
The snake symbolises shedding skin. Renewal. Quiet transformation. The ability to move differently without losing your core nature.
The horse represents forward motion. Energy. Freedom. Strength in movement.
Perhaps it’s coincidence. Perhaps it’s symbolism. But I find myself holding both images gently.
Shedding what no longer fits. And moving forward.
Midlife often carries both of those energies at once.
There are parts of our lives we have outgrown — roles, rhythms, expectations. There are also parts of us that are only just waking up. New desires. New courage. New forms of freedom.
Spring feels like the physical embodiment of that tension.
Nothing is fully formed yet. But everything is quietly happening beneath the surface.
Travel has always mirrored this for me.
Hiking alone — which I’m sharing more in my current series — isn’t about conquering mountains. It’s about stepping out into uncertain terrain and trusting your own pace.
Visa applications, paperwork, logistics! — they remind you that movement requires preparation, but also resilience.
Travelling solo in midlife! isn’t about proving anything. It’s about choosing yourself in a world that doesn’t always understand that choice.
Each of those strands — hiking solo, navigating visas, travelling independently — are small acts of renewal. Ways of saying: I am still here. I am still moving. I am still growing. I explore more about all these themes over on my latest videos on YouTube. Click the links above to learn more.
In a world that feels heavy, that might be one of the most radical things we can do.
Not to deny the darkness.
But to refuse to let it be the only story.
The snowdrops on our building site aren’t dramatic. They don’t fix the mud. They don’t solve global conflict. They simply grow anyway.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
So, where are you noticing your own green shoots emerging this season?Thank you for being here — whether you read every word or just dip in now and then.
Until next time,
Safe travels,
Sue x
This email may contain affiliate links. If you choose to use them, I may receive a small commission — thank you. You’ll never pay more, and my opinions are always my own.
P.S. Helpful travel resources I genuinely use can always be found below:
🏠 For accommodation, I use Expedia and Booking.com primarily. They have their own loyalty schemes which is easy to progress through the levels for better discounts and inclusions.
🚍 For tours and activities, my preferred supplier is Get Your Guide.
🗺️ For multi day or week tours, check out G Adventures. I used them for trips in Costa Rica, Peru, and Galapagos.
🧳 For luggage storage on your travels, I recommend the service by Bounce.
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