My journey over the cancer seas and beyond
Listen. Can you hear the softening of solitude? Or the ache that spills from an empty space? If you are quiet enough even the wings of an owl can be heard as it passes with longing for the field mouse. In a world so full of noise and distractions the moments between the notes of our voices stand as treasures to be savoured. In the season of merry ramble and cheer the earth is calling for quiet as it settles into the long sleep. The time of winter is traditionally a time for rest, yet the commerce machine pushes on to the glitter end of the perfect festive tide.
This year I am emerging as the winter cloak falls shut, so I am slow and its feels rightly joyous. There are now things in my calendar of days, gatherings and meets, full of cheer and conversing. Stories to tell , songs to sing, things to learn and fires to tend. Smiling I hold onto the right to step away from the fray as needed. My drive is not the drive of the woman wanting to race into engaging after a year of relative solitude on the cancer seas. I feel a need to savour the winter in its enduring cold grace. Spring will come calling soon enough.
In Traditional Chinese medicine winter is the time of water, the deep well spring of our body that that needs replenish, nurture and rest. We are out of sync it seems, as a society, always pushing forward with the desire for eternal growth. In the cycle of the elements it is the earth that holds the overspent waters, containing their flow across the lands. So too it is with us, all that nurtures and gives us secure grounded earthy tender within, be it home, family or food will help in that process of needed rest that the cold season asks of us.
It is curious to wonder at why we consider we can always plough on. That we forget we too are nature itself and thus in need of shedding time. A time of quiet resting. As I write this I realise how much I would celebrate a world where it is a given that we all have time to stop in winter beyond the designated excess that Christen tide brings. That we can trust the fabric of our lives would not necessarily fall asunder if we did. The arguments against this and for the incessant push fail to arouse enough interest in me these days. I am shaped and changed and dancing to a different inner tune, one that resonates in closer gratitude and harmony to the seasons. And I would wish even moments of this upon you all.
For if it is only a moment that you can take, I wish the softest touch of the feathered owl to sweep your brow clear. Remember to breathe, find your feet and look to the sky. May you find the beauty of a rich sunset, the shine of a starry night, or the breath of wonder that comes from seeing the view across the lands. Here is the magic, in the space in between our doings. Deep in the earth and deep within us the spark of the fire burns bright. Less is more in the time of the frosty jack.