When the new year rolled around the other day, I debated about returning to social media and publishing again. I went there. I nearly posted about the beginning of a new year and stopped. I closed the app and disappeared from the noise once again. Something felt weird about talking about anything there. Sometimes, I want to go and share a piece of writing I did or announce something I am working on, but then I find it just feeds into something I don’t want to have a part of my life in this season of the year. I don’t want to be focused on the goals or the beginnings of anything. I don’t want to make a statement about this next year, the season, or even the month. I feel like I am in that 2-4 AM moment of my year. The one where I have awoken with dreamy thoughts. They are tender, revealing, and what I truly feel under the daily checklist of things like what is for dinner or did I get all my tasks done for the week? These thoughts reveal many parts of my desires, brain, heart, and longings in life. It is a place where the noise and clutter of that space don’t have anything to give at the moment. So, I lean back to being here. Writing my weekly newsletter and sharing my writings that come over the days of being present in nature and here.
During this break, I have been reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. It is an important book for anyone looking to connect more with their creative self, and I have had dozens of people write and tell me, “You need to read this.” I am over halfway through now from, the time to take many sauna sessions to shake the drab of this weird beginning to winter. In the book, he talks about this state of the subconscious that comes in dreamlike states or even when feverish, which can give us knowledge and wisdom we hold. He also has a whole section about the filters and ways we take things in that clog the filter so we can no longer create or connect with our creative selves.
All of it had me thinking about how precious this time of the year is. Even as we jump back into routines with school or work, there is something tender and important about this time of the year. Just like when I am in that wakeful/dreamy moment in the middle of the night and have to be careful with what I do so I can fall back into a deep slumber easily, I have to be careful right now in the same way as well. If I am not careful and am not slow where I can be, I will shift gears and miss the gift right here.
So, I am choosing to stay slow wherever and whenever I can. I am setting intentions for this month to be just that, slow. I plan to shift very little in my life right now, that is, for spring when the soil is workable again. For now, I am dreaming, hearing the subconscious thoughts clearest, and recognizing how important it all is in this journey we call a year.
My birthday is in just a few weeks, and as a gift for myself, I told Mike I wanted to slip away alone to hear myself clearly in this season when it can be hard with young kids. So, I booked a place to stay away from the routines of life for a weekend. I want to sink into my dreamlike state for a bit and only hear me. I also hope the weekend will entail some great cross-country skiing if winter can cool down enough to bring in some good ole lake-effect snow. If I speak it into the world, maybe it will come.
This is just one example of how I preserve myself in this month in particular. Afterall, January is all about tending to ourselves. It is about hearing those dreamy thoughts and trusting them, giving them space. It is a month of listening to what our bodies and hearts ache for and giving in wherever we can. Finding comfort with the intuition in our body and using it to inform where we hope to go on this grand wonder we are stepping into that we call a new year.
I’d love to hear how you plan to tend to yourself this month and season? Comment below!
The podcast is back for the year! I'm excited to kick into winter with you. Lots to cover and learn about. Not to mention some exciting announcements.
1/5 Reflection - Suspended
I have waited to see the snowfall. The type of snow with big flakes. The ones so heavy it is no wonder they fall to the ground.
On one of my evening walks, the snow began to come in. It wasn’t the big flakes. They were small but something. The first in weeks. I had seen the front coming across the hills. Fronts in winter are less ominous than the ones in summer and fall. These ones are softer, gray, and feel like a blanket to grab rather than a wall to hide from.
Standing in the pines, the snow fell gently and softly, kissing my skin in a way that is unique to the softness of flakes of frozen lake water.
Over the years, I have found magic in nature that I could equate to falling in love with someone. For a moment, standing there as the snow fell, I felt all those electric and tingly feelings of finding your soul meeting another. The snow felt like coming back in touch with someone I had loved and longed to hear from but hadn’t in far too long. I had ached to be in the falling flakes of the snow. I had ached to be tinged with the cold and exhilarated by the silence it brings.
Looking at the white sky above me, the falling flakes suspended above me, catching softly on the wind before hitting my cheeks and lips, it felt like time stood still. For just a moment, everything is silent, and nothing else can be seen or felt. The trees even hush in the wind as the snow hangs in the air like we aren’t on a spinning ball in space. For a moment, I can feel my heart pumping, my lungs filling with the cold, crisp air, and then the snow hits the ground as only snow can — it is nearly inaudible in its accumulation.
I realize I love the snow falling and piling up around me for many reasons, but mostly because of this moment. For just a moment in the world's rush, I feel time stop, and the snow and I are suspended with it in the air like a first kiss or a first knowing glance. The snow can do the same to us. It is one of the few ways we can make time stand still; winter will always be the season that holds a romance all its own. A suspended moment in time to feel the entire earth go silent.
January’s Theme: Tending
Here we are in the first FULL month of winter. January is one of the longest months of the year. Now that our weekly schedule finds a groove again, we can settle into winter. A new year has dawned, and I can nearly bet you have ideas for things this year will hold, even if they are events in life or work you have on the calendar and nothing else.
That said, we cannot rush into anything too quickly this month. As I mentioned above, January is our month to tend to ourselves. To listen to our hearts. To speak our dreams into the wind. Let ourselves sink into the parts that need our attention and tending. This is an important month. This isn’t one to rush into. Instead, you should be gentle and slow whenever and wherever possible right now. Take walks in the cold wind, wake up with the sun, and shut off the world with the incoming darkness. Pay attention to how the light begins to shift on the walls of your home as the days lengthen and listen to what shifts in your home along the way.
The word tending is often applied to working the soil or our gardens; since our gardens are hopefully frozen or not begging for our attention, we can shift our energy toward ourselves to tend instead. We can tend to the soil in ourselves. So if you are lost in caring for yourself, look to your garden in summer as a guide. How do you care for it? You observe and do the tasks it asks, from pruning to clearing weeds to watering to fertilizing it with additional nutrients. You praise and thank your garden as it reciprocates what it gives back in return. Treat yourself the same this month. The practice of tending a garden is a beautiful metaphor for how to tend to ourselves.
Join The Garden Planning Intensive in February
I will share more, but all Paid Subscribers get access to this event this year. It will be a 4-week intensive where I will guide you through the process of planning your garden. You will get to know your other cohort/gardeners in the process and be able to learn from one another as well.
Dates for the live events (recordings will also be done), assignments, and discussions will all go live on Monday next week. This is a great time to join if you want to participate because I have 20% off for annual subscribers, so you can get access to this + the entire year of content, including seasonal guides and more, for only $40. Such a steal!
I hope you join us! Use the discount below to get info next week and access your Winter Guide.
What I Have Been Doing on Break
The last few weeks while I have been away from this space have been full of slow and quiet days, which we all needed. Sadly, they were without much snow, but we have still made the most of the last few days as we anticipate colder and snowier days in the season's future.
Images described left to right and top row to bottom:
We did a lot of hiking over the break. When the weather isn’t very snowy in winter, there isn’t much else to do in December, to be honest. So we explored some new hikes we hadn’t done before. Our favorite was the Brown Bridge Quiet Area, which just received funding for expansion. Highly suggest!
I took a lot of solo walks just to enjoy the quiet from the busy nature of a house with kids in it. It was wonderful to just walk in the stillness of these mild days. I would have preferred my skis, but it was really nice nonetheless.
The sunsets over the break were absolute magic. I love the way that the skeletal shape of the trees this time of year allows more light despite the lack of it. The edges of the sunset on the west hills are gorgeous to me. This one was on Winter Solstice.
We took the lack of snow as an opportunity to clean and organize the house. Our playroom was refreshed as a work/art/creative space. This is one of our favorite rooms in the house because it gets light from every direction throughout the main part of the day. Nothing new was added, just reorganized. It is now where we work, and the kids spend time drawing and making things. It’s lovely.
This week, I also shared these posts for subscribers:
Traversing the Landscape of Your Year - How I approach and see life in this new year.
Rising to the Light - This is my last free newsletter before we head into the break. I talk about the beginning of winter and more.
Becoming a paid subscriber is huge for my work if you want to support independent writing and receive more from me.
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I really enjoy reading your articles, especially as a Michigander (and currently misses a snowy winter) living in Charlotte, NC. This is by far my favorite article. I plan to go back and read Dreamlike Thoughts as a reminder to stay slow in this season. Social media is such a funny thing, bc I bake stuff, bike or walk in the woods and take pictures and think I’ll share it on social media and then I ask myself WHY?
You’re right, it’s noise, and it’s good to just be in the moment.
I’m also a mom of twin toddlers so I know how it is to need the alone time! :)
I am not a resolution maker and at 66 I tend to try and do the things that I enjoy. I know there are things that have to get done. But. This winter season I am being very mindful and intentional about what I do with my time. Yes, will not be the first word out of my mouth.