01/12/2025
THE PAUSE BETWEEN
This December feels different.
It’s my first true winter in 16 years, and my whole self is learning how to meet it.
There’s a slowing happening, something deep and instinctive.
A soft exhale after so many years of tropical Decembers, of humidity, bright skies, and endless summer days.
Now it’s woolly jumpers, a different coat for every day of the week, and a kind of inwardness I haven’t felt in a long time.
I wish to let myself land in the pause.
In the spaciousness.
In the restorative, nurturing edges of this season.
I wish to notice what winter draws out of me:
the desire to move gently, to curl inwards, to listen more closely to the quiet spaces inside.
And so instead of rushing to wrap up the year or plan the next chapter, I’m sitting with these questions:
How do I want to winter?
What do I want to nurture in myself right now?
What needs rest?
What wants tending?
I think there maybe a new kind of wisdom here, the kind that arrives when I stop pushing and allow myself to feel the slower rhythms of the season, the way they ripple through my body.
Maybe this is the offering of winter:
a moment to soften, to sense, to be held by the stillness before everything begins again.