How’s the Wintering coming a long? I realized I hadn’t shared here (as I’d promised I would) about the ways I celebrated and honored the arrival of Winter — if you missed them, here are the questions I posed to ring in Winter. They are still plenty relevant now if you’re in the mood for a few journal prompts.
I marked the actual first day of Winter via an afternoon with a candle and a journal and then later a Zoom chat with some old friends sharing our answers to these questions:
What are you most proud of in yourself and/or community as you look back at this year?
If Winter is a time to rest, slow down, be a little more still and quiet what is one way you will allow yourself “to Winter” these coming months?
I have to say there is something so central to our humanity about being seen and witnessed — it’s one of the many reasons coaching is so powerful in fact and one of the reasons why, though I was hesitant at first, I have no regrets about inviting my dear friends to reflect and share together— which is definitely more structured than our usual free flowing catch up calls. I was nervous to disrupt that but in the end it worked out well.
At the turn of the year, I plunged into the frigid Atlantic Ocean and planted gobs of peony tubers I received over the holidays. I’ve never grown peonies before but I’ve been missing them - they were always readily available in early Spring at the farmer’s market when I lived in Seattle. Apparently, I’ve voiced my missing of peonies out loud on several occasions. So it was indeed a very sweet gift to receive a giant box of peony tubers.
The internet says to plant peonies in late Fall, but Winters aren’t particularly harsh here (plus they were being sold as in season here) SO I’m hoping early Winter planting is just as good as late Fall.
Given the late Fall planting guidance and the fact that I wasn’t quite adhering to it here’s what was rattling through my head as I tenderly (and therapeutically) placed the tubers in the ground:
“I really hope I’m doing this right.”
“I hope they’ll be okay.”
“Gosh, I hope they’ll bloom this year.”
Followed by:
"Take it easy girl.”
“If this doesn’t work, you can try again next year.”
“The internet said, if you plant them at the wrong time they’ll likely still bloom it just might take a few years instead of 6 months.”
The internet also graciously informed me that peonies, being perennials, bloom every year once they are established in the ground — sometimes for 100 years. And so, in the end I was comforted by the fact that peonies are a long term game and if I don’t get it right this time, next time I’ll know — but it’s also quite likely that I can’t really screw them up, eventually they’ll bloom, and keep on blooming - THAT sure does feel like something I and maybe we could stand to remember and apply in a variety of situations.
The most important Wintering commitment I made was to allow myself to be in silence more often and most importantly when I’m there to sink down into it and be open to what it might have for me. You could say, I’m committed to being one of my peony tubers — settling into the dark and quiet ground and being there until it’s time to bloom — trusting the process and whatever time it takes for that to happen. Dear ones, here’s to our Wintering and to trusting your process.