Look for the Fireweed

What grows after the burn

“The hardest years don’t mean you’re broken—they often mean you’re being prepared for what comes after the fire.”

Last year wasn’t easy.

For some, it was disappointing. For others, it was exhausting. For a few, it felt like one long stretch of survival. Plans changed. Expectations fell apart. Things you thought were stable suddenly weren’t.

When a season like that ends, it’s tempting to assume it was wasted time — proof that you fell behind, missed your moment, or somehow failed.

But nature tells a different story.

After a wildfire, one of the first plants to grow back is fireweed. It doesn’t grow in spite of the burn. It grows because of it. The fire clears space. It shifts the soil. It creates the exact conditions fireweed needs.

The burn becomes preparation.

Hard seasons do something similar in us.

They clear what wasn’t working.
They expose what matters.
They reveal what we can survive.

Not everything that burned down last year was meant to be rebuilt. Some things had to go so something healthier could take root.

And here’s the part we often miss: fireweed doesn’t appear overnight. There’s a quiet stretch first. It looks empty before it looks alive. If you only glance at the landscape, you might think nothing is happening.

But underneath, change is already forming.

Maybe you’re in that stretch right now.

You’re not who you were before the hard year. But you’re not fully in the new season yet either. It feels uncertain. Slower than you’d like. Less dramatic than you expected.

Look closer.

Is your resilience stronger?
Are your boundaries clearer?
Do you see people differently? Yourself differently?
Is there a new idea forming — even if it’s small?

Those are fireweed signs.

They don’t look flashy. They look steady.

Instead of replaying the fire, try scanning for growth. Instead of asking, “Why did that happen?” ask, “What is possible now that wasn’t possible before?”

Survival is not failure. Sometimes survival is foundation.

You may not have chosen last year’s fire. But you made it through. And that matters more than you think.

If last year stripped things away, this might be the year something stronger grows in their place.

The burn is not the end of the story.

Look for the fireweed.