I have a complicated relationship with winter. On the one hand, I look forward to and welcome it every year for the permission it gives me to slow down and turn inward. On the other hand, there are times during winter when I feel anything but free. I know the real restriction comes from within me—a thought, a belief, or a story I’m telling myself that makes me feel stuck. I know that I am in some way limiting myself.
Why do we do this?
I was having a conversation with a friend recently, and I was suddenly struck by how often we as women, and humans in general, downplay our pain. Maybe the issue isn’t just that we downplay our pain, but that we also don’t allow ourselves to acknowledge the moments of everyday grief that come with living this human life.
Awaiting the light of dawn
Pressing pause
I have been paying particular attention to the trees this season, which have been reminding me how slow the process of change and letting go really is. Like the trees, I still am moving slowly through my own transition. However, a couple things have become a more clear, and I’m a little surprised by the revelations.
57 and counting
There have been two times in my life when the transition from one age to the next has been challenging—mentally and emotionally. The transition from 56 to 57 has been one of those times. The other time was the transition from 34 to 35. I can’t tell you why these particular age transitions were difficult. They weren’t significant birthdays. I wasn’t transitioning from one decade to the next. Yet, these birthdays felt like thresholds somehow—that some significant change was stirring.
Uncovering the blocks to my belonging
The gift of belonging to yourself and being who you are, vs. being who you think you need to be to fit in, is knowing that you are worthy of your own time, energy, and attention. When you belong to yourself, there is ample space for what matters … you.
Even with the work I’ve done around this over the years, I can still find myself putting me on the back burner. I recently found myself stuck in this old pattern again. When I looked deeper into this pattern during a recent coaching session, I discovered the blocks standing in the way of giving myself the time, energy, and attention I need.
Blessing the in between
I was recently doing some housekeeping on my website and ran across this quote from John O’Donohue:
“… endings can be such a relief. When we suffer, we long for it to end. When we are in pain, time crawls. It also darkens and imprisons our imagination; consequently, we are unable to see beyond the suffering that plagues us. Often the greatest gift in such a situation is when someone manages to persuade the eyes of the heart to glimpse the vaguest brightening. Then the imagination takes hope from that, and constructs a path of light out of the darkness. Such endings offer great promise and bring us to the edge of new possibility. They are nascent beginnings. This is one of the fascinating characteristics of consciousness. Unlike the world of matter, in the world of spirit a whole territory that has lain fallow can become a fertile area of new potential and creativity. Time behaves differently in the domain of spirit.”
I believe that the words we need always find us when we most need them. I needed these words because this is where I find myself now.
The surprising ally that helped me change my business
While I have been pretty quiet the past couple of months, there has been movement going on in the background around my business.
It all started in March when I took myself to the ER for heart palpitations, shortness of breath, and tightness in my chest. I was fine, at least physically. It wasn’t until I was lying awake in the middle of the night a few days later that the source of my symptoms became apparent to me.
Anxiety.
Endings and beginnings
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about endings and beginnings. How something has to end for something new to begin, like the long dormant trees sprouting tender new leaves or the sunset that denotes the completion of another day.
Endings and beginnings mark the passages of our days, our years, our decades. In between the endings and beginnings lies the liminal space of I Don’t Know.
This is where I am right now.
Surrendering to the call and letting myself be led
My time wintering wasn’t what I expected. I had visions of hygge-licious days filled with soft light, warm blankets, good books, puppy snuggles, and naps.
There was some of all those things. And there was a lot of work. For sure, there were moments of joy, but the time was not entirely enjoyable. Sprinkled amidst periods of contentment were moments of grief because this time wasn’t unfolding as I had imagined.