Wintering

My 48-year-old daughter died of a Glioblastoma on the same day the lease for my new apartment in a new city started.  Everything in my life seemed to change all at once. My routine, my living space, the town I lived in, and some acquaintances and familiar faces were gone. The size of this life change paralyzes me in grief, stress, and fear. 

Facing changes is part of life; I have done it a few times. This time I am older. In the past, when I tried to navigate change and grief, I coped by running away, becoming very busy. When you are older, there are less healthy ways to stay busy. Also, from experience, I learned that running never works; it all catches up to me one way or another. When feelings and a heart are blocked, behaviors and thinking reflect a heartless, lost soul with more needs than can ever be met. It was a place I have been and wish not to return. 

Experience also teaches me that being forced to find a new way can facilitate significant personal growth. It can be a time to review destructive behavior and thinking patterns, make peace with death, and learn how to live a more meaningful life. In the past, I used the term “dark night of the soul” to describe going into solitude to find a new way.  I recently read a book called Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May. I like the wintering term and will replace the dark night of the soul.  It is winter in Wisconsin, and my journey into solitude felt comfortable.

My training as a psychotherapist and mindfulness teacher gives me tools to assist a journey into self-reflection, solitude, and silence.

Things to cover:

1.    Learning patience that comes with the understanding that things must unfold in their own time.

2.      Slowing down teaches us to live in the moment where we find deeper connections with ourselves and others. It is where we find gratitude. 

3.      Trips into nature give us the wisdom to find we are all connected. And we can all benefit from knowing the secrets of trees, plants, birds, animals, and fireflies.

4.    Self-compassion is like a blanket of snow providing quiet warmth as we face the truths hidden in the dark.

5.       Dreams are like fireflies, giving us our first glimpse and guiding us to our North Star. We journal through each dream lesson, sometimes using the words of poets to express our own experiences. 

6.      The long shadows of winter are like my negative and hurtful thinking, patterns meant for survival but no longer working. They are the dream themes and behavior patterns trapped in the unconscious.   Learning to replace destructive patterns with an open heart will lead to a new way of living.  Like the North Star, illuminating a path for the rest of life.

8.      Hope is like spring. Our consciousness is the fertile ground for planting the seeds of possibility. In the darkness, the magic of new life happens as we hope for a new way of living.