Wintering

January has started out slowly for me, as I had both intended and hoped it would. Life can be so hectic, and making a conscious choice to slow down and take time for myself has proven to be a wise one. The Danes call it hygge, a cultural concept which encourages a calm and relaxing environment, which is often accompanied by warm socks, fluffy blankets, books, and fires, and it is something I have embraced. For myself, I’ve called it wintering, a kind of hibernation where I have taken refuge inside my home, reading the books I have been wanting to read, listening to music, walking the local paths with my dog, and spending time with my thoughts. I’m not going to lie. I’ve also spent a lot of hours in very cozy pyjamas, exceedingly grateful that I can give myself this space and time to be alone with myself. It has been invaluable.

I thought I might get bored. Bored of the silence, bored of my own thoughts. And there have been times when I have yearned to come out of my cave, into the light, and get back into the world. But it turns out a little boredom is what I needed to ground myself, and get in touch with my creativity again, as I figure out what it is I really want to do with my time on this planet. Wintering, for me, has been exactly what I have needed. I have read extensively, a wide variety of books (for those that want to follow what I read, you can find me on Goodreads). I have written, working on editing a recently completed novel, while at the same time researching and plotting the next. I already have such a strong idea of the next story already, with a main character who first came to me while in something of a trance in Portugal. I didn’t know I would need to tell her story then, but her voice, once just a barely audible hum, has been increasing in volume, and now is ready to be unleashed, like the most ferocious of arias sung by a diva. I have such a strong sense of what this character looks like now, what she thinks, feels, and how she loves, passionately and without fear. And I have also learned what she is prepared to fight for – and to die for. She has walked beside me as I have wandered around my local haunts, wrapped up against the cold weather, my loyal little companion Brontë beside me.

I’m ready now. I’m ready to write this story, just as I’m ready to embrace my year of living selfily, as I dubbed it when I set off on this mad idea to gift myself this year. Except I now know it should be called my year of living selfully. I want to live my life to the fullest, not trying to do everything, but identifying what it is that is important to me, and to give the best of myself to achieving and experiencing that.

Its time to write my next chapter.