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Each time winter arrives, I am like an unwilling child being swaddled before her nap. I don’t want this slumber. I prefer to feel the southern winds and watch fat goldfinches on the cherry tree. I like the juice of a ripe pear dripping down my chin and the soil under my nails. I don’t want this blanket of ice, this muted tone, this long shadow time. Or don’t I?
The mother knows. She has been watching the wee babe rub its eyes. She is attentive to the warning energy of the spirit and approaches stoically, wrapping the baby tight. Lays her in a dimly lit room and puts her near a window to teach her what she can only learn by resting and listening to silence. Gradually, the babe settles and finds the rhythm of an endless sea within her. She closes her eyes, and Rest welcomes her, and hands to her the sacred skill of receiving. Resilience, joy, restoration, celebration, praise, and awe are threaded into her tiny sleeping body. Because of this time spent alone and tucked into herself, she will wake again with renewed reverence and appreciation. Where she goes in her sleep is never fully known, but wherever it is, she will come out resplendent and enamored with the great game of hide and seek. She will walk outside, put all ten fingers deep into the earth, and squeeze. She will say thank you for everything.
To the darkness and hunger. The survival song. To metamorphosis and light. To all those wintering alongside me, I thank you for your neighbouring roots and the water you share with me.
I’m curious, how do you apprentice the long winter months? Have you found peace within the cycle?
love,
Sarah
I have been contemplating this year, in amongst my healing journey, how I resist winter. How I fear winter. The ancestral stories of isolation made real by the fact that my friends don't want to meet outside or do things after our kids come out of school. The ancestral stories of poverty made true by the rising costs of fuel and food and my inadequately insulated council house.
But last week during a cacao ceremony and self-guided journey inwards, I was asked what season I was in, and I replied 'winter'. When I came around, I was surprised to know it, but indeed I am in a time of my life where a lot of things need to die, hibernate, transform under the earth, be let go of, be allowed to sleep. A time of rest, and everything within. Within myself, under blankets and under soil level, parts of me that are deep and need deep love and deep rest. 3 times since the start of October, my body has forgotten that it should rest and this has manifested in illness. The first I fought, and I am now on my third and treating it as welcome opportunity to devote love and care to myself. Shedding so much.
Thankyou for this space to speak 💕 thankyou Sarah. I hope for a meditation with you soon x
Last year during a really painful time, I started to relearn to sink into the rest, magic, and quiet that is winter, just like when I was a kid. As a sugar cube adult, it’s still a work in progress haha. But daily walks with attention to the winter sun and whatever plants/trees are around, riding my horse, candlelight, and permission to get cozy very early in the day is how I find solace. So grateful you and many others are discussing “wintering,” that’s what really helped me find the joy and peace in it again. xx