Wintering

The art of rest and recuperation when you are in darkness waiting for the light to return.

A term coined by Katherine May in her memoir ‘Wintering’.

I found something funny last Saturday morning. This was a big relief as my sense of humour had dried up in the past few weeks.

A had left early to visit his Dad and I was sitting at our dining table in the winter sunshine, warm through the patio windows, wrapping our grandson’s birthday present and writing him a poem for his card.

A Whats app came through on my phone ‘I have arrived!’. I was still not dressed, so I replied ‘I’m still in my purple dressing gown!’ or I meant to. How magical is predictive text! It had changed ‘purple' or actually ‘porple’ to ‘propel’. Chuckling, I imagined how amazing it would be if this fleece, ankle length, indestructible gown given to me by my Mum (paired with a slinky nightdress with black lace) could be reframed into the garment that propelled me into action rather than trapping me in its safe, warm and comfortable arms.

As I write this, I think I shouldn’t want to be propelled into action. I shouldn’t feel bad for my need to float and potter about and rest - but I do.

After Christmas, after all the family had left, after my Mum had been discharged from hospital, after we’d welcomed the New Year in, I felt lost and depleted.

I couldn’t make a plan, I couldn’t write, I couldn’t make decisions, I couldn’t even decide what to do for the weekend. It was bleak. I understood I was tired and sad and I needed to replenish:

• Two yoga classes

• An icy swim with some fun people

• A choir rehearsal

• A beer in the pub, where the lack of seating meant we had to engage with a cheery elderly gentleman and I couldn’t dwell on my lot.

In the end I made a decision about the weekend based on what would fill me up the most and that was to visit my grandsons. It was a lovely precious time - I thought I’d sorted it.

But nature thought otherwise and now I have a flu-like virus and the only thing I wanted to do was to lie horizontal for the day. Now at last I am letting myself have a rest.

All the time I tell my family, friends and clients to not be scared to have a rest, make space for themselves. YOU have to be okay, I preach - put the oxygen mask on first before you help anyone else.

We all know this to be true but the conditioning, the pull to show how busy and productive we are, like a badge of honour is so deeply ingrained that it's not until we fall on our knees that we have permission to stop.

Border Belles performing ‘O Holy Night’

‘Fall on our knees, oh hear the angel’s voices.

This line from Oh Holy night could have another meaning other than a call to worship. That it's not until we break that we let our angels help us.

Please don’t break! Ask for help. Do something that lets the light in.

I’m here if you want to chat, send me a message.