the pause –

the pause, as we are enveloped in the darkness of the longest night, gives just enough quiet to think. before winter gets its cold teeth in and leaves behind an autumn that rained so fiercely it almost swept us away, before we turn again toward the light, perhaps too hot and too bright as it was in high summer. before the living things take off in wild growth with another hectic spring, first, a pause.

if we have a moment to think, what are we thinking, then? because our dominant train of thought has railroaded us into a course of action and consequences that explode around us as if in a slow-motion wreck. now, here, this is the turning of the sun toward the light and let us turn with it, and think differently. we cannot alter our trajectory with the same fundamental beliefs about who we are and how we should live. we have to get at the underpinnings. at the winter solstice, there’s quiet darkness enough, perhaps, to do this in earnest.

what if we imagined the coming year so vividly that our minds cannot tell reality from vision? what if with every story we each tell ourselves about this year, we see ourselves anew?

in each small act of each small day in my small life, i see that we are all connected. we breathe each other in and out, not othering, because we need each other, to keep our balance, to live. life expressed as other animals, as plants, soil microbes, water flowing, we are all integral. how can we imagine otherwise? that any being on this good earth survived this long because it was not an integral part?

to see ourselves at once as essential to life on earth and a part of a living whole much greater than human, then. humility, then, in service. however we solve the problems of our small days, the focus is now to make more life in all its diversity.

we’ve no time to lose, the urgency is upon us. profound change is happening whether we see ourselves as participants or passengers. paradoxically, it is in the quiet that we stop being so urgent and begin to feel another way through. it’s there in the pause, as we catch our breath. it’s there in every small moment of our lives, each story, conversation, meal. the money we earn, spend, save, the places we go and how we get there, the very structure and routines of home, work, the fibres of our clothing, the energy of our beings.

how we think and live, and how that makes life around us, is the stuff of the small work.

this small work has been altering for some five years, and its latest iteration almost escaped me as this season is such an intense one. so many preparations to lay the ground for new life. here it is, better late than never, i should hope.

also, apologies to southern hemisphere readers for being so preoccupied with a northern experience.

as to the new year, that short film that was made here last spring, by a documentary team, it’s coming out very soon. i’m so excited to share it with you. stay with me for more.

as ever, your support in the forms you are able, reading, sharing, commenting, paid subscribes, they are really impactful and meaningful to me. thank you. ☆彡 to you, for the new year.

♡ elisa