Step Back to Step Forward

It is pouring today in RVA. My son was asking "Mommy, why does it rain?" I told him the clouds have so much to carry and they have to let go otherwise it will be too heavy :).  It reminds me of how we sometimes need time to collect our thoughts, emotions, or energy—until we’re ready to pour.

Today, I have a pair of tracksuits to return to Amazon. Oddly, I find this small act joyful. Returning something I won’t use feels like a blessing—a quiet relief, an “anti-shopping” kind of joy. Shopping itself brings excitement, but the ability to change your mind, to undo, to step back—that's a different kind of happiness.

It made me think: maybe joy doesn’t only come from forward motion. Maybe it can also arise from rewinding, recharging, retreating. Like a spring—you pull back, store energy, and then release. The step back is what makes the leap forward possible.

Recently, I paused my own reading to teach my son how to read. He’s only four. Each day, we open a book together like it’s a little door to a new world. His face lights up with every new sound, every new word, every new story. This, too, is a kind of stepping back—less time for my own learning, more time for planting seeds in him.

My husband asked, “What’s your purpose? Do you want to break a record for youngest reader?”I smiled. “I just want to fill my life with meaningful goals,” I said. “And if we happen to break a record along the way, would that really be a problem?” :)

I see so much of myself in him—we both love structured learning. We’re on lesson 27 of a 100-lesson book. The path is clear, the method is simple, the joy is real. There’s something so satisfying about making progress in a system that works.

When I was teaching at William & Mary, I created a “Roadmap to Success” on Google Sheets. It let students track their checklists and quiz grades, helping them find gaps and fill them in. I loved that system. And now, in my biostatistics course, I do the same—learn, quiz, repeat.

This kind of learning is like the spring again: absorb knowledge, then press down and watch it release.

And the azaleas—how they wait all winter, quietly preparing, only to burst open in April. Isn’t that a kind of step back, too? Reminds me of my poem that I wrote three years ago:

People, too, can only endure until April—like the azaleas.

It cracks its heart open, spills what it holds inside.

Don’t be afraid—

It’s only here to make your world a bit prettier.

The rest of the poem carries a message about being courageous enough to speak up—about painting the world in your own colors, just like the azaleas.

To experience the burst, feel free to step back.

Recharge.

Take your time to bloom.

Do you have moments like this—where a pause becomes progress, where pulling away gives you strength to return with more clarity or joy?

I’d love to hear your stories below. 🌸 Here is a song to listen along :)