The Slow Time

It was more of a feeling than a thought.  It came as was fluffing the hay for the donkeys, looking past the feeder to Vermont’s Green Mountains in the distance.

This is a slow week. I could feel it in my body.  But I also remember that during these days before Thanksgiving, I don’t sell much work and I get less traffic on my blog.

I remember it from last year, the first time I think that I was truly able to embrace the feeling.  I know for many this is a week of planing and cooking, of traveling and preparing.

But for me, it’s my winding down week. A week of embracing the darkness.  A transition from the warm weather and long days to accepting the reality of winter which is so close I can smell it.

It’s also the beginning of hunting season. So at least for this first week and on the weekends after I won’t be walking in the woods.  The dogs and I will take to the road, peering in to the woods from the outside, knowing that when we can walk there again freely, the ticks will be gone and it may even be transformed by a dusting of snow.

This time of year, that focuses so much on the coming holidays, has always been a difficult one for me.  But I feel like I’m finally beginning to understand it’s true meaning for me. It finally makes sense why in the past I always felt so alone and out of place.

Because, back then,  I was fighting instead of embracing the rhythms of nature. Denying the darkness and ignoring my instincts to withdraw by joining in family dinners and holiday parties instead.  But I’ve moved away from that and come to a place that feels right for me.

I can already feel the quiet filtering into me.  Settling in my body, calming my mind.