The Slow Rev
It’s the day before New Year’s Eve. My tea is hot. My laptop is open. My tasks are clear. My brain is completely empty. Smooth even.
I think a lot about this season in and out of it (the literal Winter season yes, but also seasons of rest now that we are acquainted). The air is crisp and clean in Los Angeles in ways we don’t dream possible under our usual carpet of smog. The light looks different as the sun slips away to bed early in its new home. It’s nice out but chilly enough to justify a week of cozy nights in. Things are shedding and growing at the same time with new energy delivered from the rain. We are also shedding and growing at the same time though we forget about the former in favor of the later.
The end of year can be confrontational. Are you the new person you’d swore you’d become in January? Do you have an inkling of energy left for (potentially complicated) social and familial obligations? DID YOU DO THE THING? If the answer is ‘no’ to any of these things, it can be tempting to speed up into a frenzy of urgency to capitalize on the time we have left before ~the end~. As if we enter into a new dimension on January 1st with no chance of wrapping up or starting what we meant to earlier in the year. Honestly, before this year, I fell into this little trap every single time. Somehow even more booked and busy than ever to feel like I did it all before reluctantly stepping into the black hole at midnight on the 31st.
We silly humans forget that we are of this earth. And while it’s easy to acknowledge the *fact* of the seasons, we hardly recognize their meaning, purpose or how it applies to us. I’m not the first to point it out but have found myself saying to friends, family, and my productivity demon - nothing blooms all year. There is no spring bloom without the dormant, stagnant decay of winter. Like that houseplant you’re overwatering that hasn’t sprouted a leaf in a few months (lol this is all of us no?), you also innately need and deserve this time to hibernate and absorb the goodness you’ve gobbled up. It’s beyond natural to feel tired or run down in Winter. It’s also understandable how we miss the call to chill.
Speaking from my own experience, it can be the hardest time to take a beat to truly rest almost ~because~ of the perceived time off. Parkinson's Law is the concept that work expands to fill the time given to complete it. With an unhealed brain, the few days around Thanksgiving, December extravaganzas and the infamous zombie week between Xmas and the new year are prime time to fill with panicked future planning and last minute tasks. I will go all over town searching for the exact right White Elephant party gift. I have caught myself planning an extremely busy day trip to the desert for no reason. I’ve even gotten the ball rolling on last minute Treats. events I know for sure don’t need to happen by the top of the year. Instead of welcoming the break, we can’t help ourselves. Unless we put our devices in a locked safe and escape to Fiji for two months, the potential to be productive can be overwhelming.
With this little seed of a reminder and because I’m a February baby, I decided to give myself the gift of understanding and a slow January from here on out. I invite you to consider doing the same. Listening to my body’s seasons has never felt better and I know seeing my Winter all the way through will pay off when it’s meant to. Who said the beginning of your year couldn’t be your birthday month? Let’s start that, honestly - what a mindshift!
I think with time, awareness and practice we can begin to unravel from the urge to hop into action when our environment and biology are giving us the permission to rest. Winter is meant for wintering. And if you’re slow to wake up from your hibernation or you forgot your alarm clock in the vortex on New Year’s Eve, just know that you are right on time. You haven’t missed anything. You’re not behind. You are a houseplant. And your blooms are coming.
With <3,
Alison
