Renewal

Circling back and around, this piece may help you remember when it’s time for change and renewal—and to come back home.

Renewal
Unexpected guests are always a sign of change and renewal—not always easy. They grow up and fly away… but know when it’s safe to come back home.

Read or listen—no time like the present for renewal. Either way, I hope this piece will land inside you the way it does for me—with birds chirping along the way and the music video at the end.

audio-thumbnail
Renewal
0:00
/351.14666666666665

We have some unexpected guests who just flew in from out of town.

Guests come and go. Some stay longer than we want—others don't stay long enough.

These three little ones just arrived—accompanied by their vigilant mom. The dad had to stay back and do some work—making his presence known from time to time.

I enjoy the company, but the last time these guests dropped by, they really left a mess. Not exactly the bathroom facilities I usually expect guests to use.

After a while, I thought they vacated the premises without notice. I washed down the area and made some needed repairs—tightening up the cracks a bit.

Then I went for a run by the lake to cleanse my soul. On the way back, getting close to home, a bird flew over and dropped a message. I felt it on my head.

Try not to laugh too loud. I’m pretty sensitive about these kinds of things. My daughter said, “Serves you right, Dad.”

Yeah, I think of it as a lesson—and as my son just messaged me, “Birds are smarter than you think.”

For me, it wasn’t just a sign of the changing seasons, but a sign of renewal and new life—and as many of you know, that can get a little messy at times.

I guess I learned that we have to wait for things to happen instead of trying to clean them up too fast.

I think that’s what we do sometimes in our work.

We try to rush things, and then we end up feeling like crap when people aren’t ready to change in the way we think they should—even when we’re right.

I’m aware that these words might be offensive to some, but I hope they’ll stick. Even if you bathe, it may take more than Nana’s special soap to wash them away—and you really don’t need to.

You just have to ride the waves and let them take you where you need to go. As we sit with the joy and the pain—side by side—we can remember our Core Self—the person we were always meant to be.

Right now, it feels a little like I'm being rushed along. My body is moving slower as it gets closer to my time… the seasons moving faster than I‘d like—doctors becoming my social life.

Time to cleanse my soul… so to speak. I’m a little hesitant, as I don’t want to make the same mistake as before… and have to eat some humble pie.

I’m actually developing a taste for it.

I know if I wait too long, that won’t be good either. But if I don't give it a try and take a risk, nothing will happen, and that wouldn't be fair to the little birdies that live inside… and out.

Fly away when you’re ready. Try to remember where you grew up, and drop in again when you’re ready for some renewal. It’s okay if it gets messy. Try not to worry about mine.

That’s my message. Hopefully, you’ll feel the light of invisibility—and it will stick a little better this time.

You’ll always live in my heart. I’ll be holding the light until you find your own.

My tears are flowing now… imagining them meeting yours.

Renewal…time to get moving. My daughter just arrived unexpectedly.

Looking lovingly at her mom, she turns to me with a smile, repeating something I used to tell her:

“You never know what will happen when you’re with Dad.”

Neither do I. Let the dance continue.


Gratitude: With appreciation for those who have shared their light and sweetness with me over the years—and received mine in return.

Confidentiality note: This piece was inspired by someone close to heart, but is a composite of many people I know—inside and outside of therapy. Any resemblance to your own life or our shared experience is both coincidental and universal—reminding us that our stories echo one another in the fabric of human experience.

Comments or questions? You’re welcome to reach me at mcecilvt@aol.com. Feel free to share these words—and this blog—with anyone you hold close… or long to be closer to.

About me: Besides being a writer, Marc Cecil is a doctoral-level licensed psychologist, certified AEDP supervisor, approved EMDR consultant, and senior CSRT consultant. An experienced psychotherapist, supervisor, consultant, and teacher, Marc uses an integrated experiential model called Core Self Integration Therapy (CSIT)—grounded in our capacity for adaptive change—to help people heal from complex relational, developmental, and transgenerational trauma. Some refer to it as Elephant Work.

Dr. Cecil lives in Vermont near the shores of Lake Bomoseen, where his heartfelt stories and images of connection arise from the light of invisibility—bringing life to therapy and therapy to life.