Hey, you.
The cold, dark December days are here now. I’m low on energy, but high on inspiration. I can literally feel 2022 waning and coming to a close. And I find myself feeling drawn to all things deep, inward, and silent. If I could, I would bury myself deep in the earth at the base of a tree or find a dark cave and fill it with candles and blankets and warm drinks and books and journals to be filled. And just be there.
I’d come out every now and then, to visit the outer world for a brief moment to see daylight, to move about, to meet other folk; but for the winter, at least until the winter solstice, I’d remain under the earth. Listening to the dark, feeling my own intuition, waiting in the emptiness of the Advent season.
While I can’t retreat to a cave or the base of a tree for the next few weeks, and where I live is literally the exact opposite of being nestled down in the ground, I still feel pulled to go deep. I mean really deep.
The other day, I ran across a quote on Instagram that describes exactly how I feel this deep winter season:
“I declare this season of my life to be the long form season, the deep work season. I get lost in the novels I’m writing. I read books not articles. My posts get longer + more intricate. I paint for hours with no reason. I do puzzles + ponder, rather than scrolling. I take my time. I steady my gaze. I indulge.” - Amie Mcnee
This is exactly what I mean by being all in. I am dropping way down, slowing way down, embracing the enveloping darkness, waiting with hope for the light to return… but not too soon.
Instead of waiting anxiously for Christmas, for the sun to return after the solstice, for a new year to start, I am sinking down into the messiness, the reality, the truth, the grief, the beauty of life. I intend to pay attention + feel + hope + let the deep darkness do it’s thing.
And, while I am here in these dark winter months, I plan to indulge. In writing. In meditating. In reading. In being. In tarrying. In creating. Something out of nothing.
Happy deep season to you.
xoxo. liz.