Wintering Well

Today I hosted a Zoom call titled “Wintering Well.”

I did this because this fall, I went through a winter.

It started with a “rational” reason — my son had some health issues resulting in the need for an MRI on his brain that we had to wait 3 long weeks for. But long after the worry over his health had mostly passed, I was involuntarily yanked into a season of panic attacks, frozenness, and general darkness.

This is not a season anyone chooses. No one wants to be a disaster. No one wants to struggle for seemingly no reason. Life invigorates us. Work is rewarding. Being in a catatonic state? Less so. The short version of this season’s resolve is that I walked my way out of it, quite literally. The only thing I could find to snap me back to earth, back to comfort, was walking miles and miles around one little loop in my neighborhood in the 27-degree air. After about an hour, I could feel again. And then? I started thinking.

(And praying, but that’s another story.)

All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.

Blaise Pascal

This season of great pain filled me with great gratitude. I was supported by others around me including family, friends, and even clients who extended so much grace. Sobbing to a loved one how appreciative I was of their longsuffering with me felt like setting a bone. It hurt to say the words, and yet it felt like everything was being set right.

The shelf of my mind was completely cleared off. Only then was I able to start putting some things back, discarding others, and looking for what was still missing. This season of “wintering” (that actually started in September) made me never want to be the same. I didn’t want to get back to life. I wanted to be changed.

I thought of so many others who go through seasonal affective disorder, mental illness, spiritual difficulties, and so many other kinds of “winters.” I wanted to join others who were deciding not to just get through winter, but to charge through winter. Quietly. Not suffering on the couch, but sitting there on purpose. Doing work. But in a new way.

Doing those deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting - is a radical act now, but it is essential. This is a crossroads we all know, a moment when you need to shed a skin. If you do, you’’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel so raw that you’ll need to take care of yourself for a while. If you don’t, then that skin will harden around you. It’s one of the most important choices you’ll ever make.”

Katherine May, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times

There are a lot of great thinkers who have carried me through this time. Richard Rohr through his book Falling Upward, which focuses on the first and second halves of life, has been pivotal. Katherine May’s gorgeous reflections in her book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times have felt like a treat.

I’m extending an invitation to my network to join me for 10 weeks to winter on purpose. Let’s spend 10 weeks together wintering on purpose instead of letting it drag us along. If you want to get a feel for what the sessions will be like, please reach out for a recording of the intro session. (I am not sharing the link here because others shared in the session as well. They knew they were being recorded but would still prefer not to broadcast their sharing.)

The cost is $150 for all sessions, and the time and date of the sessions will be determined after we get our group together. They’ll be starting next week.

I hope to create a space of “alone together” for us to use January, February, and March with great intention. So I hear, the spring always comes.