In Season

Inspiration

Source: "The Micro-Season Permission" — Rowan's rest-rhythm river essay on granting yourself permission to be in dormancy without apology. We let trees rest in January without judgment, but treat our own fallow seasons as failure.

Core metaphors: - Trees in January (no one asks them to try harder) - Three phases: dormancy → bloom → harvest (all legitimate, each serves the others) - The second layer (the tension of fighting the season you're in; permission is when it drops) - Location as weather report ("I'm in a dormant phase" as complete sentence)

Emotional arc: From apologetic self-judgment ("I don't know what's wrong with me") → the reframe ("what if nothing is wrong?") → understanding the three phases → recognizing the second layer → the exhale when resistance drops → "you can stop pretending now"

Potential hooks: - "What if nothing is wrong? / What if you're just in winter?" - "You can stop pretending now" - "The dormancy isn't debt" - "Shoulders you didn't know were raised" - "I'm in a dormant phase" (complete sentence)

Feel: Gentle but grounded. Not sleepy—earned stillness. The sound of the second layer dropping. Warm, breathing room, space between notes. Should feel like permission actually landing in the body. Rest-rhythm river palette: moss green warmth, sage softness.

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Style Prompt

Progressive grunge meets folk, 68 BPM breath tempo, fingerpicked acoustic guitar in open tuning, male vocals gentle and unhurried, mallets on floor tom only no cymbals, intimate room sound, the weighted blanket of permission, rest-rhythm warmth

Lyrics

What if nothing is wrong?
What if you're just in winter?
No one asks the trees
To wake up in December

You can stop pretending now
You can stop pretending now
The dormancy isn't debt—
You're just in season

I've been carrying an apology
For the quiet in my hands
Explaining all my stillness
Like it's something to understand

As if rest required a reason
As if fallow needed proof
As if the ground should be ashamed
When nothing's pushing through

What if nothing is wrong?
What if you're just in winter?
No one asks the trees
To wake up in December

You can stop pretending now
You can stop pretending now
The dormancy isn't debt—
You're just in season

There's a time for going dormant
There's a time to bloom and grow
There's a time for bringing harvest
And they're all the same below

The root doesn't keep apologizing
For the months it spent unseen
You don't owe anyone an update
On what's happening in between

There's a layer underneath the tired
That's the tension of the fight
Shoulders you didn't know were raised
Against the winter night

The season wasn't hurting you—
The resistance was the cost
You were never failing
You were never lost

You were just in winter
Trying to perform the spring
And that performance—
That was the exhausting thing

So let the shoulders fall
Let the performance end
"I'm in a dormant phase"
Is a complete sentence

Not a confession
Not the start of an excuse
Just the truth of where you are
With nothing left to prove

Nothing is wrong
You're just in winter
No one asks the trees
To wake up in December

You can stop pretending now
You can stop pretending
The dormancy isn't debt—
You're in season

You're in season
You're in season