Wintering 3 | From the Archive

First published on January 10, 2019

Loves? Hi. You didn’t expect to hear from me, but I have a little Wintering surprise! Every remaining Wednesday in January, I’ll publish a repost from the blog archive for you to enjoy. xx

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It’s true.

January might be my favorite month (ah, yes, until October comes…).  I love the dark mornings that last and last. Love the explosion of color as sunlight scores the eastern sky. Love the early arrival of evening that gives permission for the day’s work to be done then, too. I love how January is quiet, restful, reflective and hopeful. The cold reminds me to cherish warmth. The snow reminds me that simplicity is beautiful. The golden glow from the windows of a tucked-in house draw me from the outside in. Hibernating. A cocooning that is tender, nurturer of infant dreams.

So thoughtful, so wise that an entire year should begin this way. It makes me realize that I, too, want to begin things in a gentle way. I’ll take the soft opening over the grand one. I’ll send a personal invitation instead of renting a billboard. I’ll light a flame, then watch it go from wick to wick to wick.

In these beginning days of January, I’ve sat with pencil and paper, a throw blanket and copious cups of tea, and written ideas and sketched out plans. A delightful energy has thrummed off the pages. These are not grand plans of sweeping change or high goals of achievement, but, they’re tender ideas that are strong with life. I’m thrilled that they are a part of mine.

All this with the knowledge that life holds the unexpected, the unplanned, the surprise. That there are challenges in January days, just as there are in May days, just as there are in October days. That, when evening comes, the work might continue. That beautiful white snow is also wet, messy snow. That cocooning might sometimes feel suffocating. 

It’s seeing all of it, living all of it, allowing it to strengthen and instruct. Choosing, then. Endeavoring every day to hold the bigger space for goals and aspirations, for my calling, for the hard work that it takes to get there. Knowing that moving one step forward often happens by taking two steps back, ever inspired by those around me who’ve chosen to fully live despite any circumstance or challenge they may face.

Hello, January. Shall we begin?