02/13/2026
We can all feel the spring is on its way, but before we really lean into that, let’s make sure that we get that last bit of the deep nourishment that comes from resting in the dark of winter.
Usually I get a thrill when the birds return and the early wildflowers start pushing up from the damp ground blooming as the days get longer and we move out into the garden,
But this year I realized I felt some concern.
A jolt of worry and misalignment when I heard the birds really going for it yesterday.
They were singing so beautifully.
The sun was shining into the windows and I thought,
Not yet.
Not yet.
I need some more time.
I think part of it is all the grief and horror we are having to process in the world around us takes time and energy.
I wondered - how do I witness what is happening?
How to I honor it and help and also still live my life?
And feel excited for spring?
I feel like I need just a bit more of hibernating time this year.
I was imagining processing my deep sadness, despair and disillusionment as the alchemy of composting. You put something in the compost bin and over time the organisms, the heat, the damp, the dark dirt turn it into something else.
Something nourishing.
I feel like I am pretty good at letting grief run through me. Working as a nurse, being a parent and human has taught me that and I have some ways to make that process less cumbersome.
But usually I can be patient and move through it, but what we are dealing with now?
The cruelty, the abuse, the deep malevolence of so many in power is so staggering and painful. I feel like my inner compost pile is trying to process a large tin can,
a brick,
or a car.
It’s too much.
So, I’m going to take some extra time to be quiet.
Not to fix or improve or flee my body and my soul, but just to be and allow while I sit in front of the fire with the cat hopefully in my lap.
I want to ask myself what else do I need to do now to appreciate the darkness?
How can the darkness and quiet help me pace myself in these ongoing challenging times?
And if there is rage underneath the grief. SO much rage. How do I work with that in away that is productive and tears down that needs to be torn down? In the world and in me?
What can I do in the coming weeks to make sure I get my fill and allow myself to rest and be before I have to start responding to the exuberance of spring?
Maybe it’s making soup? Journaling? Lighting candles? Dancing to 90's hits? Maybe it's finally learning backgammon?
What do I want to experience during this time of hibernation forced by the weather and the wind chill factor so that I feel nourished and like there is enough soil for my roots when the ice finally melts?
