TGIF :: The Invitation of Wintering
#84 || On reacquainting with Spirit + a juicy miscellaneous section 🤹🏻
Thank you for trusting me with your time. ClearLife is an exploration of life without “dimmers” such as escapist drinking, eating, snark, exercise, shopping, sex, work, drugs—even generosity. Prior posts are available here, including a summary of The Eight Awarenesses. Your engagement (likes, comments) nourishes the source from where this comes, so if inclined, please do chime in.
Adrift
I’ve been in a quieter space for a few weeks—in person, online. Time alone. Less content to consume. Less talking. No comments on Dry January, no inspiring shares about entering 2025. No bandwidth for writing other than the second to last review of my book manuscript and return to my publisher.
Noticing my lack of energy to publish here, I thought I’d lost my passion for weekly writing. Maybe it’s run its course? I asked myself. It was a perplexing inquiry, as this space has been so fruitful and nourishing for almost two years (two years?!) now. Someone asked me if writing felt like a “should” — “Is it a good compulsion, or one that maybe you could live without?”
I also felt a drift from what I can only refer to as Spirit, that almost inexplicable part of me—us—that isn’t body, brain, or heart. Everything I’d been doing felt so… tactical, practical, and mental. Where was the magic? Had I lost touch with my intuition? Was I ignoring it again?
Writing without guidance from Spirit is mundane for me and probably yields far less worthwhile reads for you. When I can connect to Spirit, something magical happens. Practically, this looks like daily presence with my Intuition, waves of inspiration during which writing flows out of me, and an almost unconscious—yet critical—intentionality around when and where I write, my favorite being with a candle and a cup of coffee, at least two hours before dawn. I wasn’t even making space for this (until today).
Allowing
So, I took some of my own medicine, and listened to myself. I didn’t force it, for weeks. I allowed for a spell. This meant less time writing weekly/bi-weekly newsletters, a full deep dive into the now annual ritual of a 3-day silent meditation retreat, several weeks of sleeping at least eight hours a night (early to bed and numerous “snoozes” on the alarm between 5-6am to milk the magic out of those liminal moments of reflection and touch in the dark), long hot baths before bed, going out to a long dinner at a sushi bar by myself with a book (am I the last person to read All Fours?!), and the gradual, but now complete process of transitioning our spaces out of “holiday mode” to “it’s a new year mode.”
As I took some space and allowed, I gradually recognized that I have been carrying a lot that needs time and space to metabolize too; no wonder I’ve needed some rest. I’ve been fundraising for two projects, helping my eldest complete college applications right before the holiday season, crafting that very near-final draft of my book, recovering from one of those awful respiratory viruses making its rounds, and tending to a range of health needs—check-ups, tests and other affirmative poking and prodding that just takes time, attention, and calm. Oh, and I’ve been processing the surfacing of an older half brother I’ve known was out there, but was faceless and nameless until November. More on that another day.
Wintering
One of the attendees of last week’s Saturday Sangha shared about her own process of wintering, sparking a discussion and awareness around this critical part of the human experience, available to us all. Though it’s winter in the Northern Hemisphere now, it can happen any time of year because it is an “inside season.”
We don’t get to schedule these “inside seasons.” Like the cycles of nature around us, we notice them when we’re in them. The opportunity is to not resist and simply be with the experience. Then, if inclined, take advantage of the texture and tone of the time.
They are all different and magical in their own way. Spring is full of creative energy, new connections and projects, discovery, and delight. Summer encourages us to enjoy of the fruits of our labors, appreciate the bounty in our lives, connect, and play. Autumn is a time of beautiful acknowledgement of impermanence, a shedding of what no longer serves, and a chance to save and store what we might need later.
And Winter… in this time we’re quieter. If we don’t resist or attempt to override it when it emerges, there is a beautiful stillness we can wrap ourselves in. We consume and create less, or at minimum what we do take in, we do with far more intention and appreciation. Conversations are softer, more steady. We can reflect at a level that’s deeper than usual. Beneath the surface we are restoring, rebuilding, re-assembling, regrouping. And in my (recent) experience, it is in this time when I have enormous access to Spirit.
Had I lost it?
For those who’ve been reading for a while, you know that deepening my relationship with Spirit, that magnificent, mighty, and mystical force in us all that is not body, brain, or heart, has been not only part of my cancer healing journey, but also the deep dive of healing and discovery I’ve been so invested in for most the last two years since leaving my last tech exec role. Guided medicine journeys. The Hoffman Process. Working closely with women teachers. Heart and soul openings with the Spirit-led people in my life.
In feeling like I’d lost touch in recent weeks, I wondered, is it medication I am taking? My over-rotation on my sons’ needs with school, sports tryouts, and various health and injury care needs? My overactive mind? I can see now, from this wintering reset of sorts, that no, I just needed a bit of stillness to restore the connection.
Encounters with the Divine
On Wednesday evening, I dropped my son off for a session with his weekly tutor (funny, I think they hang out more as friends than in a parent-student capacity these days, but hey, something is working), and considered my options. Trying to tune into and listen to my Intuition more than usual, I sat in the car for a moment, listening to the silence for a signal. Before long, I’d decided to walk instead of my usual eat / write / talk / scroll / read.
It was dark and chilly out, but as I set out on foot, I followed my attention, winding my way up the quiet residential streets that twist and turn up the wooded hillside above town. No music. No podcast. No phone call. Just me. Walking. Quiet.
I noticed barren trees still aglow with holiday lights, carefully pruned wisteria and rose bushes, and driveways littered with kids and sports gear. I passed a person or two. We exchanged nods, a quiet acknowledgement of a shared appreciation for a night time walk. I observed the rhythmic breath cloud as I ascended higher, feeling the heat of the movement throughout my body. It felt good, being out, moving, in silence.
At a certain moment, I paused near a lonely streetlamp, way up in the hills, and listened. There was something rustling in the tree next to me. The wildlife around here is fairly harmless, so I was curious, not scared. I waited. Still. A few long, quiet minutes passed before a massive Great Horned Owl took flight from just above where I was standing. It was so close I could hear the air rushing under its wings as it launched itself into a neighboring tree.
Pure awe. It felt like a message.
It’s amazing what we notice, when we get still and quiet—observe—not only in the moments, but in the space and time that follow.
Wintering + Practices to Reconnect with Nature, Spirit
The invitation is to do what works for us to harmonize with the internal season. For winter, this can be anything that helps us embody an appreciation for more stillness, quiet, and listening. We can start by looking at our daily routines to make small changes or do something more dramatic. Here are a few ideas:
Small Doses of Sacredness: Find some alone time. Dim the lights. Light a candle or more. Turn off distracting sounds and screens. Tune into what you need, really.
Deeper Nourishment: Take time to temporarily set aside the needs and demands of others (work, home, family, social) and listen deeply to yourself. What is one small thing you can do for yourself today, in honor of that truest you?
Time in Solitude Outdoors: This is my go-to, has been since I was a child. Leave the device(s) at home and your ears empty. Get outside. Tune into your surroundings with all of the senses. Feel your body in whatever motion (or stillness) you experience. Listen to your heartbeat and the detailed sounds of your surroundings. Notice any smells. Feel the lungs fill and empty, the heart beat, the air on our skin. What you see? What do you hear? What’s the message, or as my Aunt Judy would say, is there a Sign?
Anything you do to reacquaint yourself with Spirit, or yourself, or your surroundings that you’d like to share?
Thank you
…for journeying with me. As usual writing sparks deeply nourishing awareness. This week is no exception.
Onward, with Love. ❤️
Miscellaneous…
Following up on my U.S. Surgeon General Reporting two weeks ago (post here)… At USAPA we released our own perspective on the matter and I’m thrilled to share it was picked up by 500+ publications and news sources including the AP, Yahoo!, Morningstar, and audiences reaching a total of 208.8 million people. That’s news. Now comes the work of getting Congress to act. More soon.
Cream in that coffee, please. As some of you know, I’ve tried and reported on a few number of alt-milks and creamers and friends, I am back to the basics. Half and half FTW. It doesn’t curdle or have added sugar, and nutritionally, isn’t all that that bad (low carb, low sugar, a bit of protein… much better than most oat or almond milks!). Still willing to try new things if you have one you insist is somehow better!
A ChatGPT prompt my fellow personal growth junkies out there. “I am wondering if you are aware of any patterns i possess that i should be aware of” and then this one, after it answers: “any in particular that i think i should spend more time understanding and addressing?” From one of the answers I received: “Pattern: You seem to oscillate between a desire for productivity and ambition (building companies, publishing books, creating supplements) and a yearning for inner peace and mindfulness. This duality is a strength but could create tension if the two are perceived as conflicting.” Uh, yeah.
One Hour of Community Connection via Zoom. The next Sangha Saturday will be right after Valentine’s Day on February 15, 2025 at 9:00 AM PT / Noon ET. These monthly online gatherings keep getting better! We start with a brief meditation, a bit of context / topic setting, and then we open it up for exploration among us. Though not focused on “sobriety” or “recovery” those of us who attend are actively exploring a life without dimmers, and for many of us, that prior dimmer was alcohol. Others include food, generosity, pot, and work. Link for invite here.
The inauguration in Washington D.C. next week… will be a lot of things (including the coldest in 40 years thanks to the incoming arctic blast, snow, and wind), but it will, in all likelihood, not be a step forward for women in politics or business. I posted about this in a more appropriate forum, LinkedIn, yesterday, here. It’s public.
Finally, I want to highlight three fellow Substackers this week (coincidentally, all women!):
Mia’s Queue, by Mia Quagliarello, with specific love and appreciation for this week’s Flowering. Love. Wow. Her staple is her taste-making posts—interviews with people thriving on the frontlines of our various cultural zeitgeists, but she’s been getting more personal lately, sprinkling tales of her own inner journey in a series of more intimate posts. I love what she’s doing and look forward to these in my inbox. 🌸
Love Story, by Laura McKowen. If you read sobriety/recovery materials, you already know Laura’s work, books, socials, and more. After a decade or so of writing about her sobriety journey, she’s shifting gears, going deeper. This post (the list is about halfway down) outlines what we can expect from her as she considers what lay beneath her years of drinking. Emotional sobriety? The evolution of marriage? Narcissism and relational attachment? Yes, please.
The Soul of Brand, by Rachel Roberts Mattox. Can I love something because it’s intentional and beautiful, even if the subject matter is outside of my lane? Yes I can. Rachel’s writing is touching in difficult to explain ways and always comes with something thought provoking. There’s nothing like reading something because it is a delight and then finding yourself pondering the points she’s made for days, sometimes weeks, to come.
I love this concept of wintering. I have been experiencing a lot of what you shared so framing it as this was what I needed to reset. thank you.
And 1+ for Half and Half!