Good Sunday morning. We got 8 inches of snow at our house yesterday. It’s rare that we get snow in Seattle so it’s such a treat when it does happen. The last time we had a big snowfall was almost exactly two years ago. It just started snowing again this morning, candles are flickering throughout the house, my son is still sleeping, and everything feels quiet. The rain will return later this evening so we will savor it while we can…
A few weeks ago I listened to Katherine May’s wonderful On Being conversation on ‘Wintering.’ I loved it so much I listened to the unedited version as soon as I finished the first. From Krista:
“In so many stories and fables that shape us, cold and snow, the closing in of the light — these have deep psychological as much as physical reality. They draw us, even force us, to do what Katherine May calls deeply unfashionable things: slowing down, resting, retreating. This is “wintering,” as she illuminates it in her book of that title — wintering as at once a season of the natural world, a respite our bodies require, and a state of mind. A cyclical, recurrent weather pattern, if you will, in any life. It’s one way to describe our pandemic year: as one big extended communal experience of wintering. Some of us are laboring harder than ever on its front lines and also on its home front of parenting. I don’t know a single person right now who isn’t exhausted, almost as a state of being. It feels like Katherine May opens up exactly what I and so many need to hear, but haven’t known how to name.”
Katherine’s book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times is just as delightful as her talk with Krista.
“Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Wintering is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximizing scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.
“It’s a time for reflection and recuperation, for slow replenishment, for putting your house in order. Doing these deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting — is a radical act now, but it’s essential. ”