I Wonder what the dark invites me to
We are three days away from the winter solstice; it’s getting darker earlier than ever.
As I reflect on the darkness of the season and check in with my moods. I find myself drawing inward, wanting to enter the season by staying home with a warm cup of tea in hand and a heated blanket over my lap.
The mood in the air speaks to a shift in rhythm as the earth prepares for an extended time of rest during the long cold nights ahead. In the deepest dark, the earth sleeps, giving rest to the soil that protects the seeds that will provide food for the birds of the air and beasts that roam the land. The moon and stars begin to take center stage as they shine longer and brighter in the sky.
Winter is here!
I’m feeling an erge to join the natureal world in wintering, like the turtles and black bears I want to give in to sleep. To find rest like the trees and the soil. I have given my time, energy and creativity and now it’s time to rest with the promise that new found renewal will spring up within me when the season shifts again.
“I am a human being, not a human doing. I must let go of the need to produce and trust that it is precisely in the most profound dark that unseen beauty is germinating within.”
A Season for deep listening
As I surrender to this idea of wintering, I am saying yes to practicing rest and finding renewal. To fully enter this space physically, I must also welcome a shift in mindset. I am a human being, not a human doing. I must let go of the need to produce and trust that it is precisely in the most profound dark that unseen beauty is germinating within.
The darkness limits our vision and heightens our other senses. We may be initially impatient with this transition, from seeing far and wide into the future to accepting that our ears also have something to offer to listen deeply. The dark invites us to hear, “Let those who have ears to hear, hear.” I accepted the invitation to listen and with it I hear the hush, the dry leaves crunching underfoot; I sit in stillness to listen, and I hear the bushtit chirping with its gentle call.
Listening practices are a gift. As I take the time to be still and listen, I feel joy rise up within me for the ordinary things in life. I find hope in trusting the season’s rhythm; my natural surroundings know what to do, and I am grateful that I live amid such a marvelous mystery.
Another way I am practicing listening is to bear witness to anothers story. Listening deeply with my friends, family, and those I encounter on an errand or two. I allow them to tell about their day and try not to guess about what their going to say, I wander through all that wants to be said and try to really see them as they share. I acknowledge this isn’t always easy but I’m working on enhancing my deep listening skills and am finding genuine connection in the process.
What specific practices or rituals can you engage in to fully embrace the winter season?
How can you balance the desire for rest with the external demands of everyday life during the winter?
What insights or lessons can the darkness of winter teach you about personal growth and renewal?