Oh hello December.
You are my favorite. There is no other month I love as much as you.
Everything feels clean, and periwinkle, and light. Everything smells of evergreen and cinnamon. I burrow in closer to myself and snow lines the edges of branches and twigs and grasses that you never thought could hold its weight. Sometimes ice coats objects and everything glistens as if encased in magic glass.
Deer crunch by the windows on spindly feet at night. Funny, quick galloping sounds. And they snuffle!
Light reflects off of ice in purples and pinks, the sun is low. The darkness sets in.
As much as the dark can smother me, another perspective is that it frees me. From always feeling the pressure to be extroverted. This is a time to retreat. Be quiet. Listen. Not have as much to say.
Allow things to reset. To rest too!
This can be hard. I like to have things to do. I like to have lists of tasks. To tidy the house. To go to the market. To organize the folders on my desktop. To organize my socks. To fold the towels.
It's a challenge to sit in the wintery womb. But I like it. And I try it. Sometimes when I'm feeling the most restless I try to sit still for just a minute or two. And I let everything wash over me. I try not to attach any emotion to anything.
This is the meditation thing everyone speaks of, and it feels important.
More important than organizing the folders on my desktop, or giving names to each photo album. Maybe not too. Those things are a positive choice. But it's also good to leave it for a bit.
Tea. Quiet. Listening to everything breathing. Everything is definitely breathing, and vibrating.
Anyway, I try. I try everyday. I think I may have made it a minute! :)
I love this season. The crystalline wilderness. The shimmering satin sky. The memories of being a child. The ache of being an adult. And the opportunity to do it all myself, now that I have the ability to do so.
Take care of yourself in the dark cave. I'll meet you there. The tea is on.