In this season of increasing darkness, I find myself drawn to lightness: sun slanting through the woods on new snow, twinkle lights that are draped around the window. I turn lights on in every room, trying to remind myself that light does not equal warmth, that I can tuck in the twilight that is december, and I will be ok. It is ok to doze, to rest, to be still. It is ok not to be doing/producing/planning/going/taking action. It is ok to be fallow, to take in nourishment, to replenish stores of energy to be used when it is called on.
But it is so hard to be still, to set aside my own expectations of what should be possible, what I should be doing, what the day should hold, what I should feel ready to tackle, what I should be tackling.
Reality, as it usually does, wins with a mood that settles in like fog, cold and obscuring the long view. It tells me to stay still, put on stretchy pants, hold a mug of hot water between my hands, breathe in, realize that nothing can happen quickly right now.
So today is about rest, and I am bad at that so in this moment I am writing not resting. But it is here I will give myself permission- go kate, rest.
You can still see the sky from the corner of the sofa, or the spare light from the december morning coming through the windows from the bed.
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image used by my own permission, 2007
