The Wisdom of Winter… Resting in Stillness

This year I gave myself a gift… permission to take it easier in January.

Many of us set New Year’s resolutions, intentions, and/or goals for the coming year as part of our annual rhythm. The first week of January I watched many friends and colleagues do exactly that, sharing their “word” or intentions for the year on social media. I could feel a part of me growing anxious and wanting to do the same, to “get back to work” and beginning planning my year, marketing my offerings, and following up with existing clients.

But I took a different approach, saying hello to that anxious part of me, acknowledging her concerns, and appreciating her for looking out for my financial wellbeing.

And then I continued to listen to deeper wisdom… from within me and outside in nature. The trees don’t rush in January to put out new leaves, neither to the chickens who are still slow to lay their eggs. Nature rests, sleeps longer, and slows down. Why shouldn’t we?

So my new approach emerged. Less work the first weeks in January and staying in my annual reflection process a little longer, taking it a little slower. As I started to pick up my pace and talk with clients, I heard many others doing the same, taking a little more time off to reset and recharge.

As January comes to a close, I feel rested and ready to forge ahead. And clearer about my own intention to continue experimenting in playful ways in my work, to deepen connection with friends and family, and to apprentice mother nature. This year my heart longs to honor the thread that connects parenting and leadership through my work. The seed is sown and what will blossom is still unfolding, more to come.

An invitation for reflection….

What wisdom does Winter offer you? What did you notice this year during your reflection, and what might happen if you let that linger a little longer?

What might it be like to enter the day, the week, the year just a little slower?

What project or idea might you put down and let rest for a while?

What call lives deep inside you that if you listen a little longer might slowly emerge?