Wintering into the New Year
“Wintering brings about some of the most profound and insightful moments of our human experience, and wisdom resides in those who have wintered.”—Katherine May
So . . . it’s January. It’s now 2024. The holiday decorations are coming down and we turn our attention to a shiny new year and start thinking about resolutions and planning and ideas about what we want to do differently this year.
At least, that’s the idea. I have tried to work at it several times since January 1. I’ve set aside blocks of time to spend with my journal. I’ve pulled out my favorite pen and made a cup of my favorite tea. I have been all set to think about what I want to change going into this new year and how I want to do it.
Except, I just . . . don’t. I can’t seem to muster the energy or motivation to think about new year’s resolutions or how I need to reset my schedule or my To Do List. Try as I might, it’s just not happening. What’s the deal? I mean, this is in my wheel house, both personally and as a part of Paisley Project. After all, a big part of Paisley’s mission is to help widows redevelop a new IDENTITY after loss and to forge a new VISION for the future. Resolutions should fit into these areas nicely.
After noticing my resistance over a few days, I came across a quote from a book I read a few years ago called Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May:
Wintering brings about some of the most profound and insightful moments of our human experience, and wisdom resides in those who have wintered.
And then I understood. I am still wintering.
What is wintering? May wrote her book, a memoir, when she was dealing with some difficulties in her own life—physical, family and work-related. Instead of gritting her teeth and powering through, she allowed herself the transformative power of rest and retreat. She acknowledged the cyclical nature of life and the joyful beauty that comes even in the quiet times of winter. Maybe especially in the quiet times of winter.
The passing into a new year can be especially tricky for widows. As Paisley’s founder Karyl just wrote on the Paisley Project Facebook page on New Year’s Day:
I know for many of you, ringing in a new year can be difficult. I remember my first New Year’s Eve after my husband died. I was internally kicking and screaming, fighting the clock that was counting down. Time moving on into a year that my husband didn’t live in was really difficult.
She had shared so many years with him that the idea of welcoming a new one without seeing him in it felt horrible. Who needs a new resolution when facing that?
In addition, there are so many timelines people already expect widows to face. A big one is the idea that a widow should be “over” the loss and grief after a year. Time ticking away sometimes feels like the tapping of a foot, the shaking of a head that grief isn’t progressing faster for her.
But we don’t have to abide by the timelines of our culture. We can choose to respond to grief—or a new year—in a way that feels the most respectful and meaningful for us. There isn’t anything magical about things happening on a certain date. Maybe the energy to form resolutions or make a big decision will happen on a random Tuesday morning in April. Or October.
Maybe we don’t all need to race headlong into the 2024 with our To Do Lists and aspirational resolutions. Maybe it’s okay to take a softer, gentler approach. What if we allowed ourselves to listen to what we really need going into this month, one that happens to occur smack-dab in the middle of winter, when the days are short and the darkness lingers and much of the world is resting? What if we just took a moment to find the beauty in what is already here?
As poet Mary Oliver says,
it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world.
So I’m setting aside my journal and my favorite pen and acknowledging that my energy for rebirth and renewal is not there yet, that it may take a few more weeks, or months.
And that’s okay.