Nestling into the New Year
New year and I, we have come to a knowing with one another. A knowing where we no longer fear one another, no longer fear the inevitable resolution of epic proportions, or a disappointment or will to be broken. This in between time suits me down to the ground. Although many see its end on the 1st of January, I look to the light (and the weather) to guide me out of its clutches. Last year I didn’t emerge until Imbolc in February, and even then was grouchy at its release.
It’s not that I am on an ever lasting holiday (if only) but my body remains firmly in rest, even if my mind is being asked to jump forward.
This year, I am being brave, my soul is telling me that the only way to live truly within the seasons, is to quit the 9-5, to not sit in hope that I can dabble or somehow join my two lives together adhoc, increasing burnout instead of diminishing it. I have just read Sarah Knight’s brilliant Why I Quit My Job. This is the time of year where we dare to dream for something better, nestled indoors, with the sparkle of tree lights, hints of magic that remind us that a different life is possible.
I have had many conversations with people who are using phrases such as ‘hang on in there, by the end of January the sun won’t set until 5!’, ‘don’t worry, the light is coming back now, not much longer to wait!’ A desperation, a reckoning that our lives being on hold has no purpose, that Winter cannot possibly serve us, that we must grit our teeth and get through it. Winter holds a sacred stillness. Like standing on a precipice. A deep look into the darkness, where the only reflection is that of yourself, and the ways you have denied your soul.
Its not that I don’t want the light to come back, of course I do. However by rushing though the season we lose its essence. There are a number of gods and goddesses that have been called to represent Winter. From Greek mythology, Alcyone, hides away in her den for two weeks (said to be the 7 days either side of the solstice), the winds and seas are calmed so she may nest in safety and peace. Nesting, nurturing, nourishing and birthing young for the new season. There are varying threads and stories of Alcyone, some too complicated to follow, however the beauty in this tale runs in conjunction with nature. After reading Wintering by Katherine May, I began to notice that in the depths of winter, when the trees are bare, the buds for the new blossoms, are evident. The seeds are sown in the silence, the blooms remain dormant, ready and waiting for the right time to flower.
So in this hushed world, as I continue to write (with much help from Beth Kempton and her Winter Writing Sanctuary), my seeds are growing, deep within the dark. This has been a pivotal year for me (as many of you will know who read my other substack: Letters to my Father), and this coming cycle will see me make gigantic leaps of faith with unwavering trust in the Universe. No doubt I will be writing about the sheer fear leaving my job will evoke in me, but that fear is less than the fear of living a life unlived. Life is too damn short.
I hope that you too, are enjoying this period of gestation, and that my writing encourages you to do so. I shall leave you with the simply beautiful poem from Joyce Rupp called Winter’s cloak.
Happy nesting seasons my loves
Anna x
This year I do not want
the dark to leave me.
I need its wrap
of silent stillness,
its cloak
of long lasting embrace.
Too much light
has pulled me away
from the chamber
of gestation.
Let the dawns
come late,
let the sunsets
arrive early,
let the evenings
extend themselves
while I lean into
the abyss of my being.
Let me lie in the cave
of my soul,
for too much light
blinds me,
steals the source
of revelation.
Let me seek solace
in the empty places
of winter’s passage,
those vast dark nights
that never fail to shelter me.