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.
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.