Nature Speaks

Friday has always felt like a threshold.

Not quite the stillness of the weekend, not yet the fullness of rest, but a pause at the edge of things. A day that leans forward.

In nature, thresholds are everywhere. The slow darkening of twilight. The hush before a storm. The moment when a bird lifts from the branch and the air holds its breath. These spaces remind us that life is not only about endings and beginnings, but about the tender passages in between.

As Rilke once wrote, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” Friday embodies this gentle truth — the week behind us, the weekend before us, and here we are, in the living middle.

Perhaps this is why Fridays feel different in the body. The shoulders soften. The mind, less clenched, begins to imagine. Even if tasks are unfinished, a whisper says: “enough for now.”

Carl Jung reminded us, “What you resist not only persists, but grows in size.” Friday offers an antidote to resistance. A chance to unclench, to lay things down without insisting on closure.

There is a wisdom in this letting go. Nature does not finish every task before nightfall. The river does not hurry to the sea. Trees do not complete their growth in one season. Why should we?

So as Friday unfolds, let it be an invitation. Step outside, even briefly. Notice how the light shifts in late afternoon, how the air smells of endings and beginnings at once. These small observations return us to ourselves.

The poet Mary Oliver asked: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Perhaps the answer begins with something simple: learning to cross the thresholds of our days with attention, gentleness, and trust.

Today is not only the end of a week. It is a passage into possibility.

May your Friday be a doorway you step through lightly.