I often feel a bit guilty that this is the time of year, these longest dark days, these cold (or should be cold) days, is the time I feel most alive, since it's hard for so many people. It's in the heat and lightness of summer that I grump and wilt, and feel alive again as the days shorten and the weather cools. I love the way the scant sunlight plays with clouds and snowfall, how it hits the river and ice on the lake (or what should be ice on the lake). And so many more hours of starlight!
It's an active time where I live, too, with so many things to do outdoors in the snow and on the ice. Even walks are something delightfully different. And yet, as you say, it's not really a time I think of as "productive," not in the way our society demands. It's a time for me to sink into the world, this beauty, thinking of what's resting under the snow as I wander in the woods. And even to spend more time with friends sharing stories.
But what I wouldn't give to be able to go into the water everyday as you describe! That sounds so beautiful.
I keep thinking that it is called Dead Week because you feel less dead inside than other times of the year. Ha! So many hours of starlight, yes!! We've had particularly cloudy days so not a lot of stars but waiting patiently for a clear night.
Haha! I love that. I've been spending the week in delightful reading for the most part, sitting in front of a window drinking tea and watching the light shift toward sunset. It feels very restorative. If depressing, because winter is just ... not really present.
This is at least the second time The Omen Days has crossed my radar in recent days. It comes from one of the main parts of my ancestral world, how did I not know of it? But of course it resonates deep and hard with me - at the same time I was also thinking of rereading Katherine May's book Wintering. All this feels like ways to help the scratchy restless bits of me, this time of year. So, as always, so timely and thank you.
@Anna Brones, thank you so much. I will feel much less guilty now to just hunker down until Jan 6. Mid winter truly marks its own season and it is interesting that every tradition marks these in-between days in special ways. The monastic tradition has The 12 days of Christmas stretching all the way until Epiphany. They are an invitation to walk pregnant and to be part of co-creation. But not in a production kind of style but in doing what for so many is so hard - pausing. Pausing like in sacred preparation as winter prepares for Spring. Pausing like the Rainer Maria Rilke style in Living the questions without the pressure to come up with answers already 😇
Reading this made me the most cozy I’ve felt all week. Thanks for validating what so many of us are feeling - and braiding it together so beautifully. 🫶
I have been wishing EVERYONE: Happy Old Year today all day. Be happy now. Look back and find the joy you have lived. Don't concern yourself with the absolutely unknown future. It's like feeling around in the dark for tour glasses or your water.
I swear we are on the same wavelength. Yesterday the exhaustion was palpable. 9:30 pm seems too late to go to bed. But weirdly I want to wake up at 6:30 just to experience the dawn. Wish I had a body of water close enough for a morning dip like you. Mine are all frozen.
I can actually recommend this, if for nothing else but the hysterical laughter that ensues. 😂 Walking around barefoot in the winter wearing hardly any clothes is also one of my favorite things to do, especially when our lake freezes. Cold therapy creativity!
Don’t give up! Before long it will become a sheer pleasure and the cold water down your back will be like the crystal blue sea spray on your sun baked skin! Promise you.
I was so disappointed to wake up with a major migraine episode today! I had Big Plans - a trip to the coast. Instead, I’ve stayed in bed all day with a mug of tea and an ice pack. Rather than an omen for the future, I’m greeting this unwanted experience as an important reminder to be still and take good care.
"Sleep as much as you want, you still rise with the lethargy of deep winter." I feel this in my bones. We've been sleeping SO much, and yep, doesn't matter even the slightest bit. It's still dark when we get up (which is also my favorite time to walk into inky water), and we're still and perpetually excited about early bedtimes. P.S. That first papercut is one of my all-time favorites of yours. 💛
Anna, thank you for this Midwinter essay and allowing us the freedom for rest and rejuvenation. I’ve been feeling a malaise and restless energy that I should be starting a writing project, catching up on phone calls, or putting away the Christmas stuff, but I’m unable to do any of it today. I just want to sit under a blanket with my books and my thoughts so that’s what your writing has given me permission to do. Thanks for the encouragement.
Dear Anna , thank you for this deep look into the season of mid winter. Your description of it, especially as a liminal space takes my meandering mind alongside the concept of Bardo and the beauty of the process of transition and of allowing, without forcing. Reading this newsletter was such a balm.
I often feel a bit guilty that this is the time of year, these longest dark days, these cold (or should be cold) days, is the time I feel most alive, since it's hard for so many people. It's in the heat and lightness of summer that I grump and wilt, and feel alive again as the days shorten and the weather cools. I love the way the scant sunlight plays with clouds and snowfall, how it hits the river and ice on the lake (or what should be ice on the lake). And so many more hours of starlight!
It's an active time where I live, too, with so many things to do outdoors in the snow and on the ice. Even walks are something delightfully different. And yet, as you say, it's not really a time I think of as "productive," not in the way our society demands. It's a time for me to sink into the world, this beauty, thinking of what's resting under the snow as I wander in the woods. And even to spend more time with friends sharing stories.
But what I wouldn't give to be able to go into the water everyday as you describe! That sounds so beautiful.
I keep thinking that it is called Dead Week because you feel less dead inside than other times of the year. Ha! So many hours of starlight, yes!! We've had particularly cloudy days so not a lot of stars but waiting patiently for a clear night.
Haha! I love that. I've been spending the week in delightful reading for the most part, sitting in front of a window drinking tea and watching the light shift toward sunset. It feels very restorative. If depressing, because winter is just ... not really present.
This is at least the second time The Omen Days has crossed my radar in recent days. It comes from one of the main parts of my ancestral world, how did I not know of it? But of course it resonates deep and hard with me - at the same time I was also thinking of rereading Katherine May's book Wintering. All this feels like ways to help the scratchy restless bits of me, this time of year. So, as always, so timely and thank you.
"scratchy restless bits" so well put :) And I love it when things keep appearing.
Me too. The universe is trying to tell you something and you need to listen.
@Anna Brones, thank you so much. I will feel much less guilty now to just hunker down until Jan 6. Mid winter truly marks its own season and it is interesting that every tradition marks these in-between days in special ways. The monastic tradition has The 12 days of Christmas stretching all the way until Epiphany. They are an invitation to walk pregnant and to be part of co-creation. But not in a production kind of style but in doing what for so many is so hard - pausing. Pausing like in sacred preparation as winter prepares for Spring. Pausing like the Rainer Maria Rilke style in Living the questions without the pressure to come up with answers already 😇
Reading this made me the most cozy I’ve felt all week. Thanks for validating what so many of us are feeling - and braiding it together so beautifully. 🫶
I have been wishing EVERYONE: Happy Old Year today all day. Be happy now. Look back and find the joy you have lived. Don't concern yourself with the absolutely unknown future. It's like feeling around in the dark for tour glasses or your water.
I swear we are on the same wavelength. Yesterday the exhaustion was palpable. 9:30 pm seems too late to go to bed. But weirdly I want to wake up at 6:30 just to experience the dawn. Wish I had a body of water close enough for a morning dip like you. Mine are all frozen.
Roll around on the ice?? ;)
I can actually recommend this, if for nothing else but the hysterical laughter that ensues. 😂 Walking around barefoot in the winter wearing hardly any clothes is also one of my favorite things to do, especially when our lake freezes. Cold therapy creativity!
I took a cold shower, but that was really unpleasant...
Don’t give up! Before long it will become a sheer pleasure and the cold water down your back will be like the crystal blue sea spray on your sun baked skin! Promise you.
I was so disappointed to wake up with a major migraine episode today! I had Big Plans - a trip to the coast. Instead, I’ve stayed in bed all day with a mug of tea and an ice pack. Rather than an omen for the future, I’m greeting this unwanted experience as an important reminder to be still and take good care.
Take care of yourself! And while that's not always the reminder we want, it's often the one we need isn't it?
Indeed!
"Sleep as much as you want, you still rise with the lethargy of deep winter." I feel this in my bones. We've been sleeping SO much, and yep, doesn't matter even the slightest bit. It's still dark when we get up (which is also my favorite time to walk into inky water), and we're still and perpetually excited about early bedtimes. P.S. That first papercut is one of my all-time favorites of yours. 💛
Anna, thank you for this Midwinter essay and allowing us the freedom for rest and rejuvenation. I’ve been feeling a malaise and restless energy that I should be starting a writing project, catching up on phone calls, or putting away the Christmas stuff, but I’m unable to do any of it today. I just want to sit under a blanket with my books and my thoughts so that’s what your writing has given me permission to do. Thanks for the encouragement.
Dear Anna , thank you for this deep look into the season of mid winter. Your description of it, especially as a liminal space takes my meandering mind alongside the concept of Bardo and the beauty of the process of transition and of allowing, without forcing. Reading this newsletter was such a balm.