Breaking the Pattern: What Spring Teaches Us About Unexpected Change

For those of us who’ve spent the past few months buried in gray skies and icy sidewalks, spring feels like a long-awaited breath of fresh air, a welcome reminder that change can be both beautiful and necessary.

In Michigan, winter doesn’t loosen its grip easily. We get used to bundling up, scraping windshields, and moving through shortened days with a kind of quiet endurance. And yet, every year, spring returns. Sometimes, like this year, slowly with tentative green shoots and the occasional sunny day. Other times it arrives all at once, with birdsong and muddy lawns and sudden warmth. No matter how it comes, spring is change in motion. And with it comes the subtle but powerful invitation: renew.

This year, I’ve been thinking about how spring doesn’t just change our surroundings, it shifts us. Even when we’re not entirely ready for it. Especially when we’re not ready. And in that shift, there’s a lesson for all of us navigating change personally,bprofessionally, organizationally.

Because sometimes the most powerful changes in our lives are the ones we never saw coming.

The Comfort of Patterns

As a change professional, I’ve spent my career working with and assisting organizations and people to move through transitions of all shapes and sizes. One thing I’ve learned again and again: we are creatures of pattern.

We form habits. If you’ve read James Clear’s book Atomic Habits, you know some habits are helpful, some automatic. We build routines that give our days structure. We even tell ourselves stories that become so ingrained, we forget to question them. These patterns help us feel safe. They help us feel in control. Until, of course, change interrupts them.

And that’s where things get interesting.

Whether it’s an unexpected reorganization, a new leader, a system upgrade, or a personal shift like a job loss or a health scare, change disrupts our patterns. It forces us to pause. To examine. To ask, Is this still working? Is this still who I want to be?

It’s easy to assume we only fear change because of what we might lose. But I think we also fear what we might have to confront, what we’ve been avoiding or overlooking. The roles we’ve outgrown. The values we’ve drifted from. The comfort we’ve mistaken for purpose.

The Nudge We Didn’t Ask For

A client I worked with recently summed this up perfectly. She had just gone through a department-wide restructure and was moved into a role she never would have chosen for herself. At first, she was frustrated, disoriented even. But a few months in, she shared something that stuck with me: “This change made me stop going through the motions. It’s actually made me think about what I want to do, not just what I’ve always done.”

That’s the gift hiding inside disruption. It gives us the opportunity to break free from patterns we didn’t even realize were holding us back.

Of course, this doesn’t mean change is easy. Most of us need time to grieve the old before we can fully embrace the new. That’s part of the process. But what I’ve seen, and experienced myself, is that the hardest changes often become the most transformative. Not because we chose them, but because we responded to them with honesty, courage, and curiosity.

Spring as a Teacher

Spring is nature’s way of showing us how renewal works. It’s not always tidy. It’s not always predictable. But it’s always generative.

Think about it: the trees don’t stress about the timing of their buds. The soil doesn’t apologize for being muddy. The sun doesn’t wait for everything to be perfect before it starts warming the earth again. It just happens. The old falls away, and the new rises in its place.

And while we may not be trees or tulips, we’re not so different. We thrive when we allow ourselves to grow. When we make room for change instead of resisting it. When we loosen our grip on what was to make space for what could be.

In my READY, Set, Change! work, I often talk about the power of intentional response. It’s the difference between reacting out of fear and responding with purpose. Spring models this beautifully. It doesn’t force change it invites it. And we have the same opportunity: to see change not as a threat, but as an opening.

A Season of Letting Go

This spring, I’ve been thinking about what I want to let go of. Not just things or obligations, but stories I’ve told myself about what success looks like, or who I’m supposed to be. Like pruning back a plant so it can bloom again, I’m learning to release the parts of me, and my work that no longer fit.

And I’m encouraging others to do the same.

Maybe that means rethinking the way we work. Maybe it means speaking up in a meeting when we used to stay quiet. Maybe it’s reconnecting with someone we’ve lost touch with. Or just carving out five minutes of stillness before the day takes over.

These may seem like small things, but they’re acts of renewal. They’re signals to ourselves, and to those around us, that we’re willing to evolve.

For those of us leading teams or organizations, spring is also a reminder to model this kind of growth. Not just talking about change but living it. Being transparent about uncertainty. Encouraging experimentation. Supporting others as they stretch.

I’ve seen firsthand what happens when leaders show up authentically during times of transition. Morale improves. Trust builds. Creativity surfaces. People feel seen and thatn changes everything.

As leaders, we don’t have to have all the answers. But we do have to be willing to learn out loud. To say, “This is new for me too, and I’m figuring it out.” That honesty is powerful. It creates space for others to do the same.

What Do You Want to Grow?

As the days get longer and the air gets warmer, I encourage you to pause and reflect: What do you want to grow this season?

Maybe it’s a new project or relationship. Maybe it’s a shift in mindset. Maybe it’s simply more space to breathe.

Whatever it is, remember that you don’t need to wait for perfect conditions. Growth doesn’t require certainty. It just requires willingness. And just like the crocus pushing through half-frozen soil, your renewal may begin long before you see the results.

Let it. Welcome it. Trust it.

Change, even when it’s unexpected or unwelcome, has the potential to bring us back to ourselves. To our purpose. To our next chapter.

Spring reminds us that we are always becoming. That renewal isn’t a one-time event, it’s a rhythm. One we can choose to step into, again and again.

So, here’s to the thaw. To the possibility. To breaking free of the patterns we didn’t even realize we were living in and growing something better in their place. Let’s answer the invitation.