Winter invites us to move slow in fog-embraced terrains:—internal & external. To rest. To wait. Crater Lake National Park. November 2021. photo by anne richardson
Winter Wisdom: Time for Rest & Reflection
Winter Solstice is near. Solstice, when Ancients believed Sun stood still. Night pausing before passing into Winter. This turning point from Autumn to Winter is full of silent invitations waiting for my noticing. I walk in the pre-dawn enveloped in Night. When Rain saturates Air, slow rising Sun scarcely brightens Sky. On Star-speckled walks the beam of my flashlight fades to nothing as Sky turns lavender to periwinkle to jaybird-blue well before the appointed “sunrise” time. I wonder at it all. That I should be so blessed to witness this offering.
Winter calls to me simplify. To rest in my inner landscape. To allow the dark, internal places to compost all that has stirred in this last pandemic-laden year into a rich, loamy soil. Winter says, “Go ahead and dabble in those couple of projects that need quiet, reflective time, but don’t overextend.” The embossed invitation of Winter, as poet-philosopher David Whyte reminds me, is to “start close in.” Leave the calendar blank. Extend ample permission to nap. Imagine. Dream. To be curious. Gentle. Tender. Wait. No hurry to take action.
Winter: Time to Sit with Losses
Our Winter seasons don’t always align with the calendar. As author Katherine May says in her book, Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, “There are gaps in the mesh of the everyday world, and sometimes they open you, and you fall through them into Somewhere Else. And Somewhere Else runs at a different pace to the here and now, where everyone else carries on.” I’ve experienced those “falling though Winters.” And…my Winter seasons are not always wrapped around difficulties. This year I have been yearning for Winter since the end of Summer…not due to an obvious loss. Something more subtle. An ongoing ache for our planet. To gather close in new awarenesses I have concerning my kin relationship with all our planet co-inhabiters. Lingering nights give me permission to sit with this ambiguous loss. To ask of Ancient Kin guidance in how to Winter.
(I recommend Katherine May’s chat with Krista Tippet on the OnBeing podcast, “How Winter Replenishes” to hear more about her “winter journey” and the wisdom she gleaned.)
“Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Wintering is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximizing scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.
“It’s a time for reflection and recuperation, for slow replenishment, for putting your house in order. Doing these deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting — is a radical act now, but it’s essential. ”
Sister Trees are bare on top limbs during Winter, but down below Fern, Moss, Lichen are thriving and below ground there is are rich connections being made in the decay. November 2021. photo by anne richardson
Grief is Not a Wasteland
Grief is often likened to Winter. Comfort comes under blankets, drinking cups of tea, exchanging few words, light touches on the shoulder from a friend. On the surface the Winter world looks dormant, or near so. Perhaps an occasional splash of color from Beautyberry Shrub or Red-Winged Blackbird. The inner life of Winter, though slowed down, is engaged in preparation for Spring, for emergence.
When we engage with Grief, allow our losses to slow us down, to Winter us, we will reemerge when we are ready, each in our own way. At our own pace. And, though the seasonal calendars I was taught as a child were represented as a circle dissected into quarters, in actuality, the transitions between seasons are “smudgy.” We may think we are ready to emerge only to find we need to sink beneath the surface again as a cold wind winds around our faces and curls down our backs. Make more tea. Burrow beneath comforters. Wait a while longer to sprout. Remember, Grief is not a Wasteland. It is a necessary season that has been too long dismissed in our Western mindset. I am not the first to say, let’s reclaim the valuable season of grieving our losses.
Gratitude as Spiritual Practice
Gratitude is an essential thread in my life. Gratitude is one of my key compass points (see blog post: Grief's Dance Card, Loss Reminders, and Compass Points). The list is extensive. I offer my deep Gratitude to you who read my wandering ponderings (and thanks to those who are kind enough to send words of appreciation.) To COVID vaccines and those who are continuing to work toward a global healing response. To those wise ones bringing awareness that all of the planet is our kin. Yes, Tree, River, Bee, Bird, Wolf, Whale, Stone, and on it goes. This is why my morning walks, my time by Ocean, among Sister Trees, listening, is a crucial element of my spiritual practice. This is why, when I remember, I capitalize the words we use to identify these sentient beings.
Gratitude for my unfolding call in the world. Those close to my heart. Gratitude.
I am a heart seeker. I find them everywhere. This one was on the North Oregon Coast. I left it for other heart seekers. November 2021.
Gratitude, When You Are Ready
Gratitude may or may not be part of your daily practice. Seeking Gratitude even in the muck has been part of my journey. I don’t offer it as a panacea. Or an answer. And if anyone when you are feeling down or sharing your story of loss says, “You should be grateful for…” they are not in a space where they can listen to you. There may be events and losses in your life you are not ready or may never feel ready to extend Gratitude to. This is your journey and you get to choose how to move forward, with kindness and gentleness toward yourself, I hope.
Prescription for Honoring Grief
If you follow Grief experts, websites, Facebook and Instagram pages like I do, you’ll see lots of tips on how to navigate the holiday season. (I meant to keep a list to add as resources but forgot. I do have some great new Grief resources below though.) It can be tough no matter how recent your loss is. And honestly, my guess is most folks feel uncomfortable with your grieving, though they won’t admit that (or may not even realize it.) Unfortunately, this takes additional energy on your part to say “no” without explaining or puts you in the position of trying to take care of others when that is the last thing you need on your plate. You may not even know what it is you need! So here is an image of my “Prescription for Honoring My Grief” that arose out of a Holiday Grief workshop I offered a few years ago. I hope you find it helpful (if you would like a copy, contact me at anne@nurtureyourjourney.net and I'll send you one.) And remember, just because you said “yes” to something, doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind. Better yet, just tell folks you are “Wintering.”
Connecting to Winter (or Any Season) Your Way
I live in the Pacific NW where seasons are distinct. And my British/Northern European Ancestry is wrapped around folk lore and fairy tales rich with Winter stories. Metaphors for Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn that permeate my culture resonate with me. However, I recently visited Florida for my niece’s wedding. Hmmm, Autumn looked different there! And I have friends where the Summer Solstice is approaching next week, not Winter. The invitation then is to find seasonal language that connects with you. To notice the rhythm of the seasons where you live and dig into that soil. You may not have long, dark Winters, but there is still Night. The tilt of Earth and dance between Sun and Moon. Is Wintering calling to you no matter where you live?
Tipping Toward the Light
Thank you for coming along with me as this year ebbed and flowed. As the light in the Northern Hemisphere once again tips toward extending our days, may you find that light nourishes you. And please, may you always treat yourself with gentleness and kindness.
with deep gratitude,
anne
p.s. As always, my mentor, Grief, along with Grief’s partner, Joy, were instrumental in the composing of this blog. They both expand my heart to receive. Grateful.
For Your Reflection
What does Winter mean to you? What memories does it hold? Does the idea of “Wintering,” of finding time to “retreat and rest” appeal to you? How would that look in your life? How would you create space to “Winter” in your world?
Have you had an experience where your losses dropped you into a Winter season? How have you treated your Grief? The poem “Talking to Grief” by Denise Levertov seems to understand the relationship between Wintering and Grief:
Ah, Grief, I should not treat you
like a homeless dog
who comes to the back door
for a crust, for a meatless bone.
I should trust you.
I should coax you
into the house and give you
your own corner,
a worn mat to lie on,
your own water dish.
You think I don't know you've been living
under my porch.
You long for your real place to be readied
before winter comes. You need
your name,
your collar and tag. You need
the right to warn off intruders,
to consider
my house your own
and me your person
and yourself
my own dog.
What would it be like to invite in Grief and Winter together?
Here is an invitation: take time each day to notice something in the natural world. Bird. Tree. Cloud. Whatever catches your eye, ear, nose, taste…the senses, including your intuition. If you want, write a few words, draw a picture, collage, create as a way to connect to what it is you are noticing.
What spiritual practices are important to you? (And please define “spiritual” and “practice” in a way that is meaningful to you.) Is Gratitude one of them? Don’t judge your views on Gratitude. Simply be curious. Nothing quashes a practice like being told you “have to do” something. Be curious about why you may hesitate, then follow the thread to a story in your life.
If you are in the midst of losses this holiday season, what ideas do you have to take care of you? Remember, you don’t need to take care of everyone else.
If you are not in a Winter season, how might you support a friend or family member who is Wintering? (Hint: listening and being present without trying to fix is one way.)
How are you taking care of yourself these days? Are you being kind and gentle to YOU? Compassionate? Tender to yourself and others?
Grief Resources
The Artists Grief Deck. Take a look! These cards are free to view online and are amazing. From the website: A response to the COVID-19 pandemic, The ARTISTS’ GRIEF DECK is a set of 60 medium format ‘flashcards’ that are individually designed by artists, sometimes in collaboration with grief workers. One side displays an original artwork, created by artists from around the world responding to our open call, and on the reverse is a ‘grieving prompt.’ These are memorial and processual actions that give the individual something to do – a gesture, a tiny performance, a movement, an act of mindfulness – in memoriam for someone or something whose loss they are grieving. As a toolkit, the decks have been disbursed for free to grief workers and community organizations.
Give Yourself Permission to Mourn. Youtube video by Green Renaissance. “When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That is what the storm is all about.” Haruki Murakami.
The Scar: A Tender Illustrated French Meditation on Loss and Healing. I subscribe to a lovely newsletter, the marginalian, which arrives in my email inbox on Sundays. Warning, it may lead you down rabbit holes. Anyway, please do click on the link. This is one of the most tender and accessible works on loss I have read.
Bits & Pieces/Odds & Ends
A novel I LOVED and can’t stop telling folks about: A Girl Called Rumi by Ari Honarvar. The language is exquisite with the story drawing me in slowly like a new relationship where I was curious to know more but didn’t want to rush things because it was all so nourishing and I wanted to let it settle in. And then toward the end I couldn’t get enough. Oh so yummy.
A non-fiction book that furthered my understanding of our web of connection on the planet with kin beyond our human species was “Finding the Mother Tree, Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest,” by Suzanne Simard. She weaves her personal story in with her scientific research in a way that makes both accessible. Here is her TedTalk.
If you are interested in finding out more about “starting close in,” consider joining poet-philosopher David Whyte on his next Three Sundays series in Janauary (don’t worry if you can’t attend on Sundays, they are recorded.) The title is Start Close In: Shaping Our Lives to an Inner Simplicity and an Outer Creative Life — Equal to the Challenge of Our Times
Honored to have a poem included on the Tiny Seed Literary Journal blog: After the Apocalypse. You can see where my heart for our planet comes through my poetry. Not only that! Tiny Seed Literary Journal included one of my photos, Waiting for the Tide, this month. Doubly blessed.
A New Offering
blessings, rituals & ceremonies
I often talk about “thresholds,” those significant times in our lives where we feel the ground shifting (internally and/or externally.) Life as we know it has changed. Or there are transitional times that are more subtle and we may not recognize them until we look in the rearview mirror and go “wait a minute…hmmm.” Sometimes people, pets, places feel significant to us and we have a sense of needing to honor them. These intangibles may not have a “formal name” in our culture, but your intuition says something needs to be “done” in recognition.
My newest offering provides this service: blessings, rituals and ceremonies for traditional events (weddings, memorials, retirements for example) to non-traditional transitions (moving to a new home/leaving a home, divorce, aging milestones…I have a list of suggestions on my website,) to those intangibles that in your heart you know need to be recognized.
I invite you to pop over and take a look. I’m excited about this call that combines my experience, my skill as a deep listener, and my love of writing and words.
Bonus Photo! Here I am officiating my niece’s Florida beach wedding in November. (Not to brag…okay, a bit, but several folks said it was a lovely service.)
