My name, Pascale, is related to Easter. It’s, admittedly, an odd choice for atheist parents to name their daughter, but I digress.

Rebirth is my middle name. (Actually, Elizabeth is my middle name, but you know what I mean.) For whatever reason, renewal, reinvention, and renaissance have been on the marquis of the theater of my life.

I become sharply aware this time of year. It’s the season of all things new and reborn, not only in the Judeo-Christian mythology, but also in the natural world around us. What has been dormant is now awakening.

I’ve been in the throes of a very large project for several months. The finish line is approaching, but not fast enough. In fact, the path is getting steeper and more difficult to navigate with each step. The desire to give up threatens the desire to keep moving forward. Every. Day.

Have you ever felt this way?

I thought so.

During one of my recent dark moments, the ultra-wise being, who happens to be my daughter, reminded me of a lesson I have offered throughout her lifetime:

When things get tough, dig deeper. The right path – whether to push harder or to let go – will reveal itself. There is always a chance to start again.

Resilience is my thing. It’s the juice of my business and the theme of my life. Even so, I have felt despair, the certainty of failure, and the impossibility of success. Quite a lot, recently.

No matter how practiced I become in the art of getting back up again, the challenges don’t go away.

As soon as I’ve mastered Skill X, the Universe asks me to figure out Skills Y and Z. There is hardly an opportunity to rest on laurels. Or my butt. Especially not while living a life that’s always pushing against walls and ceilings.

The tough stuff doesn’t evaporate into a sparkly cloud. The fumbles, stumbles, and flubs don’t get less painful.

What’s the use of all that experience, then?

Each tumble, followed by rising (again), leaves us less and less attached to staying down. The possibility to begin again – regardless of how far we’ve fallen – makes itself known quicker and easier.

So, even though there are still hills to climb, you’ve got thighs of steel. (Bonus points for buns of steel, as well.)

The gift of a new season, a new day, even a new moment is always available. (I’m telling myself as much as I’m reminding you.)

Riding on an existing wave of renewal can be the extra push you need to dig a little deeper and wake up into a new day.

Let’s all rise. And rise again.