Are You Trying to Harvest in a Season That's Meant for Planting?
I used to think there was something wrong with me because I wasn’t on the same timeline as my peers.
When many of my friends were getting married and raising families, I was divorced and immersed in my career. I went back to college in my 30s, earned my master’s degree in my 40s, and changed careers in my 50s. For much of my life, I felt like I was always “out of step” with where others were.
What I’ve come to realize is this: we may be the same age or in a similar stage of life, yet we can be experiencing entirely different seasons.
There wasn’t something wrong with me. I was simply placing expectations on myself based on age instead of listening to what my life was asking of me.
Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the idea that life follows a predictable timeline. We learn. We build careers. We raise families. We achieve success. Then we slow down, enjoy the fruits of our labor, and eventually retire.
But life rarely unfolds that neatly.
I've come to believe that our age doesn't determine our season—our life does.
Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the idea that life follows a predictable timeline. We learn. We build careers. We raise families. We achieve success. Then we slow down, enjoy the fruits of our labor, and eventually retire.
But life rarely unfolds that neatly.
I've come to believe that our age doesn't determine our season—our life does.
Sometimes we’re planting.
Planting can feel exciting and unsettling all at once. It may look like going back to school, exploring a new career after decades in another profession, starting over after a loss, or saying yes to an opportunity when others assume you should be slowing down. Planting requires faith because there is often little evidence at first that anything is growing. Ask yourself: “If not now, when?” What is one dream or shift you’ve been deferring until the “right time”—and what would happen if you took just one small step toward it today?"
Sometimes we’re growing.
This is the season where much of the work happens beneath the surface. We develop new skills, navigate uncertainty, build resilience, and continue showing up even when progress feels slow. Others may not see the changes yet, but something important is taking root. This is the time to anchor into your “Why?” When progress feels slow or invisible, what core purpose reminds you that this effort is still worth making?"
Sometimes we’re harvesting.
This is when we begin to experience the rewards of what we’ve cultivated—meaningful relationships, professional accomplishments, stability, wisdom, or simply the confidence that comes from walking through life’s challenges. This is the season to ask: “What next?” Now that you’ve reached a milestone or place of fulfillment, how do you want to steward your energy as you step forward?"
And sometimes we’re pruning.
Pruning isn’t failure. It’s making room. It’s releasing what no longer fits—old expectations, identities, relationships, or obligations—to create space for new growth. This is the moment to ask: “Why not?” What outdated role, expectation, or obligation are you holding onto simply because it’s familiar?"
There are also seasons of rest.
Our culture often views slowing down as giving up, but rest is essential. It restores us, renews our perspective, and prepares us for what comes next. The core question here is: “Am I present?” How can you permit yourself to simply be without measuring your worth by productivity?"
The beautiful truth is that seasons don’t arrive according to age.
The beautiful truth is that seasons don’t arrive according to age. You may be planting professionally while harvesting in your family life. You may be pruning relationships while growing your confidence. You may be resting after years of caregiving while a new dream quietly begins to emerge.
The mistake we often make is comparing our season to someone else’s.
You may be planting professionally while harvesting in your family life. You may be pruning relationships while growing your confidence. You may be resting after years of caregiving while a new dream quietly begins to emerge.
The mistake we often make is comparing our season to someone else’s.
We see someone else’s success and wonder why we aren’t further along. We watch someone retire comfortably while we’re contemplating a completely new direction. We assume we’re behind when, in reality, we’re simply in a different season.
Nature doesn’t expect a seed to produce fruit overnight. A tree isn’t failing when it sheds its leaves or rests through winter.
Every season has a purpose.
Perhaps we could extend ourselves the same grace.
So if you’ve found yourself wondering, Shouldn’t I have this figured out by now? consider asking a different question:
What season am I in, and what is this season asking of me?
The goal isn’t to rush into someone else’s harvest. The goal is to embrace your own season with courage, curiosity, and trust—knowing that even the unexpected seasons have something to teach us.
And who knows? The seeds you’re planting today may become the harvest you never imagined tomorrow.
Reflection: What season of life are you in right now—and are you letting yourself be where you are, rather than comparing your timeline to someone else’s?
Action: Notice one “should” you’re carrying about where you think you ought to be by this age or stage of life. Ask yourself: Is this actually my expectation, or someone else’s?
Tool: Want to explore this deeper? Download the complete Seasons Reflection & Journal Prompts Guide to use in your own practice.