Winter blues Weeks of that flat, gray feeling…depression…funk. Friends don’t let me sink too far…
This morning I lit a candle and read the words of my favorite poet.Â They find their way deep into my soul today, quietly reminding me to love the trees, the snow as it sparkles in the sun against a back drop of cobalt blue.Â Listen to the trees.Â Take it slow, go easyâ€¦they say.
Stay awhile and let grace inspire me and sing itâ€™s love song into my life.
I invite you to take the time from your really busy day and really busy life to have tea.Â Not at a shop in a cardboard cup but here, at home, with a tea pot and a handmade cup.Â Sit and have it here in an old chair in the sunshine.Â If itâ€™s too cold for you, bundle yourself in coats and blankets and a hat but sit here in the sun.Â Let its warmth seep inâ€¦let its light fill yours.
If you can stand it, take your feet from those boots and out of those socks and rest them on the ground in the same sun.
Then write.Â Just write about the things you are hearing, the things you are seeing.Â It doesnâ€™t have to be meaningful or even go together.Â Describe every little thing.Â Stopâ€¦rest your head, listen and look up to the tops of the trees.Â Are their branches moving in a breeze you canâ€™t see.Â Let them speak their language to you.Â Go easy, they say.Â Stay awhile, they say.
The squirrel digs intently into itâ€™s winter stash as the cat sleeps above in the window of the shed.Â Heâ€™s not interested in hunting just now.Â The chickens scratch and ruffle their feathers into the dirt, stirring up a dust.
I was born to pay attention.Â We all were.
The wind picks up and long dead leaves scuttle across the yard.Â Snow melting soaks the ground but itâ€™s dry here where I rest my feet.
Today is a new moon.Â The day for planting seeds of intention and for writing our dreams.