I've been silent on here recently. I find myself frequently turning to journal writing or other forms of media expression for an outlet and space for idea sharing. And yet, I have found myself missing this so much the past few days.
The winter weather has truly swept me away and lured me into the cold breezes, the drippy wet corners, the saturated soil, and gnarled knots and branches of trees. I have become quiet, thoughtful, pensive, gently -no tenderly- stoic, and am truly in a stage of philosophical healing and hibernation; I feel as though I'm gearing up for an even greater wave of blooming. A wave much greater, much more powerful and positive than the one I just experienced. It's like winter and this season are the world's way of saying ~~~ rest beautiful. breathe. bring ease to yourself, to your life, to others.
And it's not just me who feels this way. I sense this in the air, and I sense it in my friends, my family, my loves. There's this hushed eagerness that I can tell is tingling in everyone; so ready for change, yet too paralyzed to move or act yet. We're restless and yet we know this is a time for patience. A time for introspection, even if it hurts. In fact, if it hurts -- even better, because than we know we aren't numbed by life and the cold. We know we are emotive, alive, and thriving. And we are all gearing up for an even grander state of being.
And so, I wait. We wait. For Spring to come, for the New Year. We all wait for the tide to rise and subside.
The winter weather has truly swept me away and lured me into the cold breezes, the drippy wet corners, the saturated soil, and gnarled knots and branches of trees. I have become quiet, thoughtful, pensive, gently -no tenderly- stoic, and am truly in a stage of philosophical healing and hibernation; I feel as though I'm gearing up for an even greater wave of blooming. A wave much greater, much more powerful and positive than the one I just experienced. It's like winter and this season are the world's way of saying ~~~ rest beautiful. breathe. bring ease to yourself, to your life, to others.
And it's not just me who feels this way. I sense this in the air, and I sense it in my friends, my family, my loves. There's this hushed eagerness that I can tell is tingling in everyone; so ready for change, yet too paralyzed to move or act yet. We're restless and yet we know this is a time for patience. A time for introspection, even if it hurts. In fact, if it hurts -- even better, because than we know we aren't numbed by life and the cold. We know we are emotive, alive, and thriving. And we are all gearing up for an even grander state of being.
And so, I wait. We wait. For Spring to come, for the New Year. We all wait for the tide to rise and subside.
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