The wind shifted the other day just before the sun set on 2023. The snow is spitting from the north on my cheeks and feeling like little daggers against my skin that haven’t fully become accustomed to winter just yet. A painful yet welcomed feeling to have after such a warm and odd Christmas.
On Christmas Eve, I intentionally wandered the hills and followed a Hairy Woodpecker. 2023 has brought me an ease and even a desire to be alone with myself more than ever before. The weather was warm enough that I only needed a vest over my wool sweater to stay warm. I hate this mild winter terribly, but I have committed to making the most of it. Wandering the woods that felt stuck in the state of November, I promised myself I would never long for a mild winter again in my life. I would choose to always celebrate the cold and the frozen nature that makes me crave the warmth of tea, saunas, and sweaters.
Winter is a season I ache for in my bones. In fact, this season was the one that called me back north, even if it was also the one that made me run. I longed once again to be tucked away and insulated by the white blankets created by the cold air from the north that blows over the warm lake waters. I longed for a season of rejuvenation, rest, reset, hunger, longing, dreaming, and everything else you can tag along with the season of winter. Coming home, I have never wished away any winter. I soak them in. I find myself in them because I love them now, but I realized when a New Year comes around it can feel like it rubs against the very concept of winter as a season.
We pack away the Christmas decor. The company leaves. The house becomes quiet again. Then, the demands of work and life come back over us. It feels like we must continue finding ways to improve, become better, achieve, and provide value to the world. I hate the feeling and the way it can pull at us like quicksand.
Wandering the woods on New Year’s Eve, once again like Christmas Eve alone with just myself, I thought about the concept of seeing life like a marathon, but I shucked it when it came into my head. What a silly concept. A marathon is a strenuous, continual plodding where you become nearly numb just to cross the finish line and feel you might want to die. Forget that. I want to live a life that is like these wanders in the woods. The ones where I allow curiosity and intuition to lead me and step along at my own pace with no one shifting the direction beneath my feet but my heart, soul, and creativity. I want to live a life where I feel there is space to stop and smell the woods in it’s decaying state, watch the snowfall, be enamored by watching a bird for 15 minutes till it forgets I am there, find beauty in the steam rising from my coffee on a cool morning, or fall in love with the colors of a sunset. Instead, life is a grand and magical traversing hike over a varying landscape, is what I came to that afternoon yesterday. There is care, attention, detail, magical views, tiny simple things that are mystical and unexplainable, and the whole thing is ultimately bigger and grander than us. That’s the world I want to live in when I perceive what it is to live in this life.
I realized then this is why embracing winter feels good. I see why being romanced by summer or aching for fall all feels good. All of them are part of the traversing over this magical and tragic land we call life. Each season demands different gear to enjoy them, not just endure them. Sometimes a season will demand we slow down and look around, catch our breath as we climb the hill. Sometimes, the journey will give us flat ground with smooth trails without roots underneath us. Sometimes the trails will be rocky, hard, and scary. Sometimes the path ahead will be hidden by fog, darkness, and demand us to slow down and trust our deepest intuition. All of them are a beautiful and incredible part of the journey.
So when I think about beginning a new year (for me, I have a birthday in just over 2 weeks, so this really is a new year for me), I am looking at it as another chapter to write about in this grand hike I am enjoying. I see it as a time to take into account the journey of where I have been and maybe an idea of where I am longing to go, but I am not choosing a specific pace. I am not trying to break a record. I am not trying to do anything, but be present, enjoy the journey, tread lightly on land and self, and find the space to stop and take the beauty in along the way. I have things I plan to pursue but they are no different than choosing a mile marker on the hiking trail to work towards. I will see how long it takes to land there with the pace that feels right for me and even with the detours that may arise.
Entering this year, I hope there is a sense of peace we can have with our own journey. The way we will walk upon the paths in front of us in this moment. The trails that we pulled to take. Most of all, though, in this season of returning to the light, I want to encourage you to spend more time wherever it is possible to slow your breathing, take a moment to soak in the view of wherever you are in your journey, and to find the beauty of it.
As we head into the depths of winter, the longest month of the year, and possibly face the slowest and quietest days of the year may we celebrate them as such. It has taken me years to find the beauty of them and the gift they offer. It isn’t that there will be anything perfect or ideal about them. In fact, they may feel heavy at times, but nonetheless, may we find the space to rest on our journey long enough to see them as still a gift. As a parent we will have sick days, the unexpected, and the shifting of priorities, but that is why I say we must leave space to enjoy the steps of our journey and most in this season.
In this new year and season I hope to encourage you to listen and pay attention on Mondays to yourself, your journey, and the moments of stopping to watch life as it is, and to help you find a peace amongst this season of dreaming even in the modern demands of life. It is there, but it must be protected and chosen just like anything in life.
Before I leave you, though, if you are a paid Subscriber, make sure you head to the Member Space to get your Winter Guide! I posted it before Christmas, but now is a great time to pull it up and enjoy it.
I will also be sharing about a Garden Planning Intensive. I am a gardener and I consult on Edible Landscapes in my local area, so I love hosting this intensive every year. The entire month of February will be about planning and designing gardens in this special session included for Paid Subscribers. So take a chance to sign up if you want to join us. Your $50 for the year (or less if you use the discount below) for the year gets you an all access pass.
I also have moved all of my online Gardening E-courses to a new site which you can find here, if you are interested.