The Wisdom of the Rose: Letting Go to Thrive in Perimenopause and Menopause
We are having an early spring here in Northern California. Glorious in all her majesty, Mother Nature has delighted us with yellow daffodils, red tulips, orange California poppies, and choruses of birds and buzzing bees in the day and raucous frogs in the night.
I almost don’t mind my car being covered in yellow pollen. 😆
Perhaps my favorite blossoms in spring are the very first rosebuds.
🌹 A Lesson from Dad
My dad was always fastidious about pruning back his gorgeous roses in the third week of January. (On a side note, I often giggle to myself, was he intuitively basing it on astrology? Because it was almost always timed when the sun moved from Capricorn to Aquarius.)
As a child, I would panic at how far he cut them down each year. How could they possibly grow back?!
He always told me to trust, that the roses needed to be pruned back to be healthy the following spring.
Every year, he proved himself right.
The roses would always come back in their full glory, first with little leaves in shades of red and green, then the thick stems would grow like summer corn, and eventually, right around the first day of spring, the first rosebuds would appear.
Celebration!
I would count the days until I could go out and inhale the lush and healing fragrance of the open roses.
Mr. Lincoln’s first tight buds of spring, which will blossom into a most rapturously scented red rose. Photo by Jennifer Schmid, 2026.
✂️ The Power of Pruning
Throughout the blooming season, dad would “deadhead” the roses, cutting off all the spent blossoms so that the plant would have the energy and nutrients to create new buds. And the rosebush would continue to grow new stems and blossoms while the base of the vine grew stronger.
On the other hand, one of my neighbors doesn’t prune their rosebushes in the winter or really take care of them at all during the year.
While their rosebushes are tall, their leaves are sparse. Their stems are chaotic. The few blooms they have don’t look healthy, and rather than getting trimmed, they rot away, stealing precious nutrients and energy from the rosebush and the roots.
🌱 The Wisdom of the Rose
We can learn so much from Dad’s tender care of his beloved roses.
The health of the rosebud is determined by how well the gardener has tended the rosebush not only while it is blooming, but also in the reprieve of winter, when the roots become their strongest.
Just like the rose, when we don’t nourish ourselves, when we don’t prune back that which no longer serves, and let everything overgrow into chaos, it drains our resources and weakens our roots.
It depletes our energy, our life force, our creativity, our libido, our relationships, our mojo, and sometimes, even our finances.
🌺 Becoming the Beautiful Wise Woman
This is especially true for women in our 40s and 50s as we transition into perimenopause and menopause. Something incredible happens when we prune back old growth and ask ourselves,
Who am I at my core?
Who am I becoming?
This marks the arrival of the beautiful wise woman.
Yet, if we leave all the detritus from the previous 30 years, the old experiences, relationships, and habits that no longer serve us, we can’t thrive in what is supposed to be the best phase of our lives.
(For my gentleman readers who are wondering, yes, you also go through a transition at this time, though more subtle than the intense biological changes that women experience.)
🌿 A Season to Thrive
Just like the rosebush, we don’t flourish by holding onto every branch.
Sometimes thriving requires the courage to release what drains our energy, creates pain, or keeps us out of balance.
In nature, pruning isn’t punishment—it’s how the plant redirects its life force so it can grow stronger, healthier, and bloom more fully in the seasons ahead.
You may feel a quiet knowing that aspects of your life—habits, obligations, patterns, even beliefs—are no longer supporting your energy, vitality, or long-term well-being.
You may sense that something new is ready to blossom within you.
🌹 An Invitation
If you’d like support discerning what to release and what wants to grow—so you can protect your health, nurture your vitality, and step into the next season of life with intention—simply comment below:
Where are you feeling called to prune so you can blossom into the wise woman you’re becoming?
You can share something small or big—I read and respond to each one.
In the meantime, may you relish the glory of new life and new beginnings, wherever you are. 🌹
Love,
Jennifer 💜