Weaving winter stories
Today’s blogpost is all about weaving a soft and snowy tapestry of words, stories, poetry and the heart of winter! So make yourself a hot cuppa and enjoy some, hopefully, inspiring winter reading and photography.
When I'm writing this blogpost it’s a gloomy and cold day in January. The snow which has fallen a couple of days ago is still here, covering the garden under a white blanket. Reminding us we're entering the depths of winter. I'm watching the birds coming to our feeders or gathering in the trees close to our chicken coop waiting until we feed them. A lovely sight of colourful flashes against a grey and wintry sky.
On the threshold of the old year to the new, I've joined the Winter Writing Sanctuary with Beth Kempton. It was an inspiring course which really invited me to write. I even wrote my first haiku which was such a lovely and rewarding experience. Isn’t it wonderful, no matter our age, we can always learn something new?!
This intentional moment of actually taking the time to write, with the soft glow of candlelight, was quite comforting on these shortest days of the year. There’s something special about calm early winter mornings while it’s still dark outside. And the light of the candle is an invitation to listen to that quiet world and write. Writing can be so beneficial for our wellbeing.
As winter is a season of contemplating and reflecting, of releasing and meandering, I enjoyed unravelling my thoughts and trying to put them into words.
‘Limit everything to the essential. But do not remove the poetry.
Dieter Rams
I believe words can really help to inhabit the winter season. It can either be your own writing or the words of others in novels or poetry. Beautifully written words have a special power to evoke beauty and touch one's heart in a very special way. During this winter time of quietness and slow pace, reading poetry is something I hugely enjoy. As you can see, this pile of poetry books is waiting to be discovered. Although it's like drinking a cup of hot tea, one sip at the time.
For me, words are a place of solace, just as bookshops and libraries which house them. And they are definitely my favourite places, apart from beautiful and natural gardens of course!
In a world that sometimes feels like a whirlwind, where life can become a blur, I want to take time to be still and embrace the beauty of each moment, even in winter. Maybe especially in winter. We’re living in a modern age with constant electric lights, endless power, stress and a disconnect from the ways of the countryside and a natural pace.
It seems to me that we are slowly giving up our creativity, dignity, humanity and emotional experiences in favour of ChatGPT and AI. Although I haven’t use it so far, I notice, for example, how it affects our daughters’ way of studying.
We are loosing our affinity with what makes us human and our responsibility to truly live the life we are given. Instead we let google and all kind of apps taking over our ability to think, to plan, to dream, to feel … to live freely.
It feels as if we are becoming ignorant, lazy, unmotivated, without willpower and no longer connected to who we genuinely are in the depths of our souls.
It really concerns me how our digital technology is developing and how we are influenced by it. I think it’s time to reconsider how we want to live instead of technology deciding it for us.
We have left so much wisdom of the old ways and I believe there’s a lot to be reclaimed.
What does it mean to live well and what will we do with the time that is given to us in this new year ahead? And is there anything the winter season can teach us about this?
‘Breathe in the beauty of everyday life, and surround yourself with what delights your spirit.’
Unknown
Another winter gives me the opportunity to celebrate walking through dark days, a chance to do it differently, to revel in slowness while the light waits its turn.
How closely can you look at the world around you? If we want to spot treasures that are concealed in plain sight, we must train our eyes to focus in and notice the details.
‘The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.'
William Morris
I’m always searching for unexpected beauty. As Roald Dahl once wrote: ‘watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.’
Going on a walk in nature is one of the things I love to do which helps me to really notice tiny wonders. Using all my senses helps me to be in the moment and to look out for all the details. And I cherish them like sparkling jewels in my gratitude notebook. I believe gratitude is an essential attitude for living life well.
There’s a particular stillness in nature at this time of the year, a stripped back beauty that may seem bleak but actually conceals the first stirrings of new life. Like the first leaves of the snowdrops I saw this week on my walk. Or these blooming hazelnut catkins in our garden at the end of a snowy day with a glorious sunset. It was so uplifting to finally feel the sun on my face after endless cloudy days!
‘When we awake to the call of beauty, we become aware of new ways of being in the world. We were created to be creators. At its deepest heart, creativity is meant to serve and evoke beauty.'
John O’Donohue
I think this quote by John O’Donohue is just saying it all so well, at least that is how it's for me. I hope your new year will be filled with creativity and beauty and the intention to live life well.
I'd like to end this weaving winter story with the poem ‘Swan’by Mary Oliver. The pictures are made by my daughter Alysha and they fit so perfectly with this touching poem in which so much detail is to be found. For me, this poem resumes subtly what I wanted to share today.
“Did you too see it, drifting, all night on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air,
an armful of white blossoms,
a perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings: a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
a shrill dark music, like the rain pelting the trees,
like a waterfall
knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds-
a white cross streaming across the sky, its feet
like black leaves, its wings like the strectching light
of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?”