A Winter’s Tale. How to follow in the footsteps of Mother Nature.
A Winter’s Tale. How to follow in the footsteps of Mother Nature.
I’d often feel, in the past few years, that I’ve been experiencing countless different lives, yet this year (and a half) in particular felt like an entire life in itself. I had to really push myself (or better said, I’ve been forced by my body caught in a whirlwind of increasing anxiety and insomnia) to take a real break last autumn (from work, from overthinking, from constantly punishing myself for not doing and being enough). A battle, I’ll tell you, a war within between a brain suddenly overflowed with creative ideas, an inner craving to do and be everything everywhere all at once, and my default saboteur - all in the detriment of a succumbing body (and spirit) that was screaming for a time out. I’m in a much better place at the moment and I no longer feel I’ve lost precious time, but rather like I’ve shedded parts of myself that were keeping me from being alive. Yet I still need to make conscious efforts to slow down and release the pressure on myself when things get tough (ideally before this happens). Old habits die hard, but hey! It’s a process. Even now, at the deathbed of a tornado of a year (formidable and shattering altogether) the impulse to cross the line (as if this life is only made of start and finish lines) in full force is real.
But then I remember it’s Winter - my favourite season (don’t ever trust me with this, though, I say exactly the same thing about Autumn 🍁🥇❄️) - and that my whole (well) being is part of it, not outside of it. I take a deep breath as my heart knows it needs to follow the wisdom and rhythm of the natural world. A time for regenerative and lucid hibernation, as I like to call it. A spiritual encounter with ourselves and an acceptance of our humanness. A resistance against this spirit crushing madness.
There’s a time for stepping out of our comfort zones, and a time to process and indulge in a cocoon of cosiness. Instead of filling our calendars with resolutions for the new year and running to get all things done by the end of (a) year, we would be better off learning to soften and slow down, to be mindful of our energy and resources. By drawing this strict border between the passing of a year and the birth of another one, we stand in the way of our flow, we are putting unnecessary pressure (which is contagious on a macro level, by the way) and we keep ourselves stuck in this vicious cycle. Let’s be honest, things will always pile up and we will never be able to put a stop, even after an achievement, if we perpetuate this narrative indefinitely. Sounds like quite a heavily lived life, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with starting anew, or with the need to be (re)born, but why do we get so stuck with these (mis) constructed deadlines? We’re so obsessed with this idea of time flying, that we do nothing but waste a lot of brain and body energy by succumbing to it. It might sound counterintuitive or maybe even gibberish to some, but I’ve realised that the more I rest, the more I take my time, the more I give in to my body rather than my mind, the easier and more pleasurable things feel, the healthier I am, the more I manage to see things clearly, to focus and connect in a genuine way, to love freely.
Let’s not force our body to feel and move the same as it does during the summer months, I don’t feel it’s equipped for that now, no matter how much we want to resist and push it beyond its limits. As opposed to summer that has an abundance of natural light and we are able to move more freely and faster as a consequence, to eat more raw fruits and veggies, drink cold beverages, to be naturally more productive and agile, in winter, on the other hand, we produce more melatonin and less Vitamin D, dopamine or serotonin. And that’s ok, we just need to nurture this different rhythm with connections that feel good, with warm and spicy drinks, root vegetables and slow cooked food, lit candles, literal and symbolic space clearing, anything sense and soul stimulating. And then we need rest, and rest some more.
It’s ok to grieve for this past year, for a past self. It's ok to feel overwhelmed and sluggish. Women, in particular, have been absorbing everything that’s going on in the world and so it’s normal to feel depleted, tensed, contracted, even in pain. We need to give ourselves some credit and compassion.
It’s ok to feel less or too much over these holidays. We all know from experience how imperfect, unpredictable and sometimes disappointing (expectations vs reality) our own lives are - in between the joyful or extraordinary moments - yet we still insist on believing that others’ are perfect. There's so much charade in the online world, so don’t give in to that. And if you feel numb to it all, just move your body. Dance has freed me from so much stuck energy and overthinking.
And let’s not forget (or better said, block) that we’ve been through a Pandemic (recently, which is important!), a kind of trauma that most of us have experienced for the first time. And now that (we think) it’s all history, we pushed our bodies from a very slow to an incomprehensible accelerated pace, which throws the body into a deep state of confusion. We simply didn’t allow for a transition period. I know we want to let go of it or pretend it didn’t happen, yet, like any other trauma, it needs tending, and most of all, it needs processing. A lot of its consequences are only insinuating themselves now, at least at some levels. We’ve been in a constant state of threat against illness but also against all sorts of uncertainties, so we need to shake that off first, before moving on (as if nothing happened). By trying to catch up or to stay on top of things, as we feel we’ve lost precious time, we’re on a sure path to burnout (at best). Our body doesn’t yet feel in a safe mode. On the contrary, what it actually needs is rest and reset. And even for those who haven’t or feel like they haven’t been affected by it in a significant way, let’s not forget that this was a collective trauma, and the collective doesn’t reside or function separate from the individual.
There’s that saying that we should live each day as if it were the last one, yet I think we’ve got it all wrong, and that this lifestyle misinterpretation has grown exponentially in recent years. This is not the way to do it. We need to let go of conforming to an unhealthy and unsustainable lifestyle. The auto pilot mode is not made for humans (certainly not for the long run) and it will break us (in all the ways possible). Perfectionism and workaholism are only just responses and adaptations to traumas, and they can be healed. We need to cultivate (again) pleasure, vitality, desire, connection. Which in turn will generate relaxation, motivation, perseverance, energy and balance. It will create safe spaces in and out of us, not the ones based on fear or (false) comfort, but on solid ground and intuition. It will help increase awareness and enjoyment of the present moment.
💝 🫂 All I want this Christmas is a hope that we’ll find our way back to ourselves and each other. And I’ll leave you with two of my favourite extracts I’ve come across in my recent readings:
“Burnout, loneliness, inequality, divisiveness, struggling to make ends meet in a hyper-individualist culture, anxiety and depression on a scale we haven’t seen before. These things feel like they’ve become the hallmarks of modern life, not the exceptions on the margins. The mistake lies in seeing all those problems — the climate crisis and the crises in our own personal lives — as separate. The value system that is failing the planet is the same one failing us.
Therein lies a hopeful message. Rather than seeing a slower, less convenient, more sustainable life as the price we must pay to preserve our planet’s future, we should see it as a welcome invitation. Because as it turns out, what’s good for the planet is good for us, too. I believe that animating that idea in our own lives is a meaningful form of resistance.” What Do We Do Now That We're Here? ROSIE SPINKS
“We've been living in this time of turmoil in many aspects of our lives, and as a result of that, our need for nurturing, empathy, and compassion continues to grow stronger as we imagine a more peaceful future." The Time
LET’S TURN THE LENS ON YOU: How do you keep the light on during these cold winter months? How do you find yourself at peace with what was and what will be. How do you stay with it all, instead of numbing or running from it? How do you stay connected to that light within? ✨
Blooms
We bought these beautifully hand painted wax Amaryllis bulbs on a whim, during a random stroll through Chiswick market. This unique bulb is covered and protected with wax to keep the moisture inside and allow the bulb to sprout and bloom by itself with no care needed at all - Energy and water are already inside the bulb. The red waxed one was the first we bought, and we became so fascinated with it that we got her a sister, one month apart. I’d watch Its brisk and lively evolution ( growing in one day like others in a year - so did Prince Charming from the Romanian folk tales) and I’d think it stands as the perfect metaphor for this past year on fast forward, but also as a reminder of life’s cycles (that the human species seems to be oblivious to at times). I also saw it as a reflection of my own meteoric growth in the recent past, with the difference that, unlike the flower, I was unequipped to hold such a boom - with all its highs and lows - particularly in the early stages. Yet by taking a keen interest in documenting its evolution on a daily basis (well, almost) I’m learning to take notice of my own growth while staying with the present moment.
Little Red Riding Hood’s sister will bloom red flowers for a change, which is so exciting. Stay tuned! 🫀
Sparks of interest
A SUBSTACK READ: Why friendships have started to feel strikingly similar to admin. Possibly the best (and most painfully accurate, while touching on so many underlying topics) text I’ve come across on the epidemics of loneliness and hyper-individualism, that we’re currently so swamped in and that affects us on more than one level.
A DOCUMENTARY: Into the Okavango. A passionate conservation biologist, a river bushman and a young scientist emerge on an adventurous and evocative journey to save the Okavango Delta, one of our planet's last pristine wildernesses.
A TED TALK: Why change is so scary -- and how to unlock its potential where cognitive scientist Maya Shankar challenges us with three powerful questions that would help us embrace uncertainty and let go of old narratives.
A poignant and ingeniously crafted STATUS REPORT from Apple’s environmental team: 2030 Status | Mother Nature | Apple
Another PIECE OF WISDOM from Alis Anagnostakis, on the debate between linear time (Chronos) and expansive time (Kairos): Are you wrestling with Time or dancing with(in) it?
A short but insightful, and visually appealing VIDEO on why we travel. It really spoke to me: The Point of Travel
A lighthearted ODE to musical instruments - organically carved from nature by people from Northern Laos - that have the ability to soothe and process grief, but also to empower love languages. On a side note, the human species would be so much more thriving if we’d all learned to speak (or even sing) nature’s language. Birdsong: the dying whistled language of the Hmong people in northern Laos
A splendid DANCE on ice with my favourite figure skater (I still have such a crush on him after so many years), Stephane Lambiel. A favourite winter indulgence with my mum from my younger years and a recently rediscovered one: Stéphane Lambiel & Guillaume Cizeron improvise to choreography by Khoudia Touré