It's Winter. Woo hoo!
The best thing about Christmas and the holiday season is the magic - the sparkly lights, the stories, the food, the sweets.
And while we're distracted,Winter sneaks in, disguised as fun - sleigh rides, bells, snowflakes on our tongues.
As you might guess, I am not a Winter-lover. But this year, I've decided that I'm going to like Winter. I'm going to put on warm clothes, go outside more. I'm not going to hibernate like I did last year (well, not as much). I'm going to embrace it. Yikes!
I've Decided to Become a Woman Who Likes Winter
What if when I looked out the window at the snow or the barren landscape, or the bare trees, and felt excited? Or at least intrigued? What if I couldn't wait to go for a walk? What if I could really get excited about all that Winter has to offer. What would it show me?
Why?
I want to test the idea of accepting versus resisting. When I started thinking about this, I realized how much I really resist Winter. I brace myself for it and just wish it would be over. But maybe there's another way.
When i started thinking that, I realized that Winter is still and deep. Everything slows down. The cold makes us more deliberate. There's more planning required. The darkness forces us into our pajamas even earlier in the evening (how can that be bad?). How can I get into the flow of that?
It Starts Here
What better day to start loving Winter, than Winter Solstice? So, I'm asking myself ... What does a woman who likes winter think when she wakes up in the dark, when she looks out the window at the blowing snow, when the wind is howling? What is she feeling? I want some of that.
Ritual
I thought maybe she might like things that bring meaning and comfort, so that's where I'm starting. I decided to find a poem that felt like a deep, Winter mystery because Winter is a mystery to me. And I decided to light a candle, as a ritual. Two deep Wintery things to start.
In winter
all the singing is in
the tops of the trees
where the wind-bird
with its white eyes
shoves and pushes
among the branches.
Like any of us
he wants to go to sleep
but he’s restless-
he has an idea,
and slowly it unfolds
from under his beating wings
as long as he stays awake…
so it’s over
In the pine-crown
he makes his nest,
he’s done all he can.
I don’t know the name of this bird,
I only imagine his glittering beak
tucked in a white wing
while the clouds…
thicken, and begin to fall
into the world below
like stars, or the feathers
of some unimaginable bird
that loves us,
that is asleep now, and silent-
that has turned itself
into snow.
~ Mary Oliver
What are you doing This Winter? Want to go on a nice cold virtual walk with me? 🙂
