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 (mentally and physically) and turn inward. Winter gives me the freedom to stop doing or, at least, to do less.
On the other hand, there are times during winter when I feel anything but free. The cold temps, snow and ice, and our location on the east side of the Cascades can feel isolating and restrictive. I find myself longing for the freedom that warmer temps, milder weather, and clear roads provide.
I know this restrictive feeling isn’t limited to winter. It shows up in other seasons, too. Although I associate this feeling with a lack of physical freedom, 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.
Because “freedom” is my word for the year, I have been paying particular attention this winter to what freedom feels like for me. What I’ve discovered is that if I’m not actively looking for and pursuing things that contribute a feeling of freedom, most of my days can feel small and limited.
This tracks with the transition I have been moving through over the past year. Being in that liminal space of neither here nor there often felt small and limiting, not to mention deeply uncomfortable. To me, the transition felt (at times) like an interminable winter season.
My well-conditioned inclination was to get through the uncomfortable uncertainty of the transition as quickly as possible. However, my soul knew that going slow would get me there faster—wherever that as-yet unknown “there” was.
The nature of my being knows that winter is a time for going slow. Going slow affords me the time I need to make decisions and choose a direction that are true for me. I know from experience that when I move too quickly, I can make decisions and take action out of habit and based on an outdated version of myself.
That’s what I did during my divorce. I was in a rush to get to the other side—past the unpleasantness and disruption and back to a place of security and familiarity. I wanted to get back to a place of comfort.
Notice I said, “back to.” I went back to people, a place, and work that were familiar to me instead of giving myself time to grow into the person I needed to become. Instead of moving slowly through the winter of my divorce, I rushed through the transition.
Of course, I ended up exactly where I was meant to be, doing what I was meant to do. We always do. However, had I moved more slowly through the transition of my divorce and its aftermath, I would have found the certainty, security, and freedom I was looking for more quickly. The certainty, security, and freedom that lives within me, not outside of me.
What I have learned from moving through this most recent transition is that there is freedom to be found in the in-between by going slow. The freedom to …
Rest
Be where you are
Listen
Make a conscious choice
Care for yourself
Gather information
And, in going slow, there has been space to discover what feels like freedom to me. By paying attention, I have learned that freedom comes from …
Taking a small action
Not needing to know the answer or an outcome
Saying no to people, places, and things that aren’t right for me
Saying yes to people, places, and things that are
Allowing someone to help me
Doing something new
Taking a chance
Doing things my way
Doing things differently (breaking from routine and tradition)
When I allow myself to follow the feeling of freedom, my life feels expansive. I feel expansive.
If you are feeling restricted or your life is feeling small and limited, ask yourself …
What does freedom feel like to me?
How can I create a little freedom in my day?
Here’s to finding freedom in whatever season you’re in.
If you would like some help in feeling more expansive, I invite you to check out my offerings—the Allowing Prayers card deck and self-paced programs.