Years ago, while researching a creative writing project, I came across a concept called “molting.”
Molting is a fascinating biological process in which birds shed old feathers to grow new ones. Although many animals undergo this process, I first discovered it because of birds.
Over the seasons, their feathers become worn out and tarnished, so they shed the old in preparation for a new coat—for more durable feathers and the ability to keep flying.
I was immediately entranced by this concept—how animals have miraculous, regenerative functions laced into their DNA. If you look closely, it’s as if this whole world operates in cycles and seasons.
When I would pick a feather up off the ground as a child, I used to think it was a bird losing a part of itself. It turns out that the shedding is a surrender already hardwired into their system. Losing feathers is part of the process. When I see a feather, it’s a reminder that we all lose beautiful things. It’s a necessary part of the life cycle.
Birds need to molt once a year to remove old or damaged feathers.
What a redemptive idea—that the old and no longer usable would fall off to make room for something new, something coming up ahead. As the birds release one old thing, something new suddenly has room to sprout and grow.
Yet here’s another bird tidbit I was surprised to discover: in some cases, when a molting is intense, a bird might temporarily lose its ability to fly. It’s grounded for a little while. This is called “synchronized molting,” where the bird is grounded for a season to grow new feathers. The grounding isn’t permanent– it’s a requirement for a fresh flight ahead. They mean even take to hiding away in a secretive place while the process occurs. But the shedding is critical for their survival.
The moment I learned of molting, I thought to myself, “This is such a beautiful takeaway. Not just for the birds but for us.”
I love the idea that we’re not meant to be stagnant. We’ve been made for renewal. Renewal requires letting go of the old to reach the new.
Renewal sometimes means daring to shed what’s no longer for us– the things holding us back.
Words spoken over our lives.
Outdated mindsets.
Misconceptions.
Expired opinions.
Fears and losses.
People we loved but who we can no longer carry.
Old storylines.
We’re changing all the time. Don’t you see how beautiful and terrifying that is?
We shed.
We peel.
We molt.
We cast off.
We release.
We transform.
But here’s the thing: birds will lose their feathers. It’s inevitable. What is no longer for them will be released through flight or nature. But we humans have a great propensity to hold on past an expiration. And so maybe that’s the invitation: that we would learn to release what is no longer for us– not in the standing still but in the moving forward- in the flight.
So this is where I lean in and encourage you this Monday. About the birds. About your flight. This is where I tell you:
I know it’s a little scary, but you can make room for new things to grow. You can believe something more is coming your way. And that might mean opening up your hands and releasing the grip to prepare for the great What’s Next.
And if you feel grounded right now– like nothing is happening and you’re off on the sidelines– take heart, little bird. This isn’t forever. This isn’t going to be your story for good. You might just be going through the molting– losing what you needed to lose to become who you’ve most needed to become.
So we shed.
We let go.
We sometimes feel a little grounded. But the little bird in us knows with great assurance, “This isn’t forever. This is just a season. I’m going to fly again soon.”
May it be so for the birds.
May it be so for us, too.