Untethered + Wintering

Photo credit: Daniel Buron

This time last year, I had my whole year planned out. On the calendar, I was working two retreats and had breathwork groups scheduled on the 2nd and 4th Friday of every month at two of my favorite yoga studios plus was planning to add in a couple extra Breathwork for Grief sessions at Tall Reeds Healing Arts where I was also doing 1:1 sessions.

Well, we all know how the year unraveled from there come March.

As we rolled into the new year THIS year, I had a blank slate before me. Without the usual suspects on my schedule as a foundation for my work, what was I going to do? What did I want to create?

I entered January feeling untethered.

Without the regular touchstones of what I worked hard to build over the years, I felt like I was floating out in space.

Of course, I could continue to do exactly what I have done, just do it online. But there was something about the fresh calendar with no limitations, expectations, obligations that made me hesitate before starting the process of filling up the days.

And what I found while I was untethered was this urge to do some wintering.

Partly inspired by the book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May and partly inspired by being a human in a pandemic in winter (a phrase I heard from fellow breathwork practitioner and friend Aimee Derbes) .

The changes that take place in winter are a kind of alchemy, an enchantment performed by ordinary creatures to survive.
~Katherine May

I realized I relished the quiet space to listen to my intuition.
I enjoyed the deep cold and snow covered world of dog park mornings in the dawn light.
I delighted in having slower and shorter days.

Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through.
~Katherine May

I’ve been gobbling up some fiction novels after a year of non-fiction books for book club.
I’ve been living in sweatshirts, sweatpants, and always two pairs of socks.
I’ve been partaking in all the winter play activities with my mom and my brother: tubing, skating, snowshoeing.
I’ve been cooking stews and chilis.
I’ve been creating a regular sweat session routine in the basement followed by hot showers, at-home manicures, and tea.
I’ve been watching movies and feel-good-shows with my husband.
I’ve been lighting all the candles, salt lamps, and twinkle lights at dusk.

I wonder if I’ve ever truly known how to embrace winter before now??

In our relentlessly busy contemporary world, we are forever trying to defer the onset of winter. We don’t ever dare to feel its full bite, and we don’t dare to show the way that it ravages us. An occasional sharp wintering would do us good. We must stop believing these times in our lives are somehow silly, a failure of nerve, a lack of willpower. We must stop trying to dispose of them. They are real, and they are asking something of us. We must learn to invite winter in. We may never choose to winter, but we can choose HOW.
~Katherine May

And I know we go through winter seasons that aren’t always cozy and comfortable.

Sometimes our wintering is a period of grieving a loved one or a time when we are dealing with illness, depression, disappointment, loneliness.

I know that a more challenging wintering will arrive for me as I have people and fur babies that I love and we don’t live forever.

And so I’m practicing my wintering for when a harsh and heartbreaking one arrives, I’ll hopefully lean into it and not resist it as much if I hadn’t given it a try once before.

So my wish for you (which I posted on the socials for the new moon but is just as relevant for this coming full moon): the chance to pause, to breathe, to rest, to dream, to retreat. For you to remember that you are worthy of slowing down.

PS: and in case you’re feeling the urge to do a little wintering yourself, join me for breathwork this Thursday (or in the recording on your own time) as we use our breath to sink into stillness. The signs of spring are s l o w l y starting to beckon, so let’s set aside some time to slow down together and sink into this winter nest before the next growing season.

A Winter Sun

There was a distinct moment this year when I noticed the change in the light. It was mid-November around 3ish and I was taking a breath from work. Looking out the window, I noticed the slant of the sun and said out loud to no one in particular, “that looks like a winter sun.”

Daylight savings can often bring a more noticeable change in the timing of the sun, but for the most part, I’m grateful the changes are mostly subtle rather than a sudden, drastic plunge into more darkness.

Noticing the afternoon winter sun on that November afternoon hit me with a wave of nostalgic memories of getting off the school bus to Christmas tunes during homework with hot cocoa and the glee of twinkle lights and candle flames.

So while my summer-lovin heart felt a little sadness knowing we’d start seeing less and less of the sun’s rays, I remembered the magic that exists in the growing darkness that arrives every year for a time.

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It doesn’t last forever so let’s enjoy it while we are here.

In fact, after today, the days begin to get the slightest bit longer! But in the meantime, I’d like to leave you with this poem someone dear shared with me:

BLESSING FOR THE LONGEST NIGHT

All throughout these months

as the shadows

have lengthened,

this blessing has been

gathering itself,

making ready,

preparing for

this night.

It has practiced

walking in the dark,

traveling with

its eyes closed,

feeling its way

by memory

by touch

by the pull of the moon

even as it wanes.

So believe me

when I tell you

this blessing will

reach you

even if you

have not light enough

to read it;

it will find you

even though you cannot

see it coming.

You will know

the moment of its

arriving

by your release

of the breath

you have held

so long;

a loosening

of the clenching

in your hands,

of the clutch

around your heart;

a thinning

of the darkness

that had drawn itself

around you.

This blessing

does not mean

to take the night away

but it knows

its hidden roads,

knows the resting spots

along the path,

knows what it means

to travel

in the company

of a friend.

So when

this blessing comes,

take its hand.

Get up.

Set out on the road

you cannot see.

This is the night

when you can trust

that any direction

you go,

you will be walking

toward the dawn.

—Jan Richardson

from The Cure for Sorrow

Merry Solstice dear one. Let’s welcome Winter in with all of its lessons, blessings, and gifts. xo!

Our Needs Change

The other day I was telling my man the plans I had to sign up for a collection of different yoga/pilates/dance classes online, in order to get into a more regular movement practice.

After hearing my plans, he said, “I thought you didn’t like group classes.”

I don’t. Usually.

If I had my choice, my preferred workout is just me and my tunes and the weights at the gym during the mid-afternoon before the after work rush of fellow gym-goers arrive.

But with the arrival of COVID, I've had the hardest time working out with just me and my tunes in my home (we don’t have weights here, so it’s all body weight or soup cans). So my needs have changed. I’m finding that having a set time, date, and teacher is what supports me to partake in moving my body these days (besides the daily hikes at the dog park).

So having that question asked of me out loud by my husband got me contemplating this: sometimes our needs change.

I began to reflect on other areas where this was also true for me.

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Prior to 2020, I found that doing breathwork on my own to my own playlists plus a sprinkling of attending other breathwork groups was a good mix for my own emotional, energetic, and mental well-being. During the stay-at-home orders here in Minnesota and especially after George Floyd’s murder, I found that once again my needs had changed.

I needed to breathe much more regularly and it was really hard to get myself to just lay down and do it on my own, so I signed myself up for weekly groups or individual sessions with my favorite practitioners over the summer. That frequency has since slowed with the arrival of fall as the craving for more physical movement was beginning to call my name.

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What once worked for us might not work any more.

Having needs isn’t a bad thing - it’s a HUMAN thing, so getting good at listening in to what your body, mind, heart, spirit are needing for nourishment and care is key, knowing that it’ll shift and change as we do.

As we grow and evolve, so do our needs. As the world and seasons change, so do our needs.

In the summer, it’s easier to stay up late with the sun and get up early. We might feel more into eating raw veggies and fresh salads and lots of fruits. In the winter, we might need to snuggle in to sleep more and drink warm teas.

In some stages of life, maybe our creativity soars or our hobbies take the lead. Maybe we need more quiet time to process or maybe we need more community connections and activities.

During a pandemic, we might need to offer more grace to ourselves and to our families/coworkers/neighbors. We might need to unplug from the news more or give ourselves more time to reply to emails. We might need more space for creating and we might need more bodywork.

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As we begin to travel into darker and colder days, what is your winter plan? What do you need right now that’s different than what you’ve been doing for yourself?

With the arrival of the holiday season whilst navigating a pandemic, how might we do things differently?

I recently read an article by Priya Parker, author of *The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters* - a book I just read for book club - and she poses a great reframe for what we are experiencing. She says that we have the opportunity for improv. Where we can see the challenges we are facing as an OFFER rather than a curveball. A chance to “reinvent new ways of being together that are safe and still carry some magic”.

“…more creative, phase of reinventing the holiday is asking what is needed from the holiday at this time, rather than the usual question of what the holiday demands of us. Don’t start with questions like, What’s the best way to brine a turkey? Start by asking, What is it that we need this year for this Thanksgiving?… And then figure out the form that makes the most sense.” - Priya Parker

So my wish for you is space for you to ask yourself “what do I need?”, clarity and insight in response to the question, and the resources, creativity, and support to give you what it is you need.

I’m very grateful to have you as part of my community. I know there’s a lot of newsletters and blogs and posts on social media these days, so if you made your way to the bottom of this post, THANK YOU. Your attention and focus here is very much valued and appreciated. Sending vibes of gratitude your way as you navigate this time. xo

Heart Massage

On the new moon last weekend, I took a 3 day Craniosacral Therapy trainging with my mom and was immersed in the study of fascia, cranial bones, cerebrospinal fluid, and how the body is all connected. (And how we too are all connected!)

I didn’t intentionally sign up knowing it was a new moon, but as you know I’m a moon lover, so being in student mode and having a beginner mindset during a “new beginnings” phase of the cycle felt pretty aligned.

One of the reasons I took the class was to learn more about supporting the body. Energy and emotions are my jam and I love working in these fields of the subtle body. But especially this year, I’m being called to also learn how I can more deeply support your (and my!) physical body of bones and tissues and fascia and cellular memory, in addition to the work I do with emotions and energy.

One of my favorite parts of the class (there were many!) was hearing this statement about the heart and the breath.

Because the heart sits above the diaphragm and is attached to it by the pericardium surrounding the heart, each time you breathe, the heart moves with the movement of the diaphragm.

Isn’t the body amazing?

So my wish for you this cycle: when your heart aches (whether from too much sorrow or so much joy), bring your focus to your breath and intend to give that aching heart a massage from the love and strength and tenderness inside of you.

I’ll share more on how my practice is expanding soon, but for now, I’m sending lots of love to you and your heart. xo!

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P.S.
Friday night breathwork is tonight and we’ll be breathing around shadow work if you’d like to join us (live or sign up to get the recording to do on your own time.) 2020 has been the perfect storm of bringing our shadows up to the surface so that we can give them the due diligence and respect of doing our personal work for collective healing. We can’t do our spiritual work without doing our shadow work. We’ll use the breath to help us get uncomfortable, to witness what might be hard to look at, to exhale away any shame/guilt/fear, and hold ourselves lovingly as we peel away the next layer of wounding/healing. Traveling together into the underworld and coming back to the surface with the medicine, lessons, story that is meant for us.