It’s bleak out there. You could say I am not feeling very funky-fresh creative-juices-flowing rainbows dancing puppies happy-go-lucky. Not at all. I’m feeling better after being unwell last week but still so sniffly. The grey clouds are persevering. Don’t even get me started on the American election results. A whole lotta harrumph.
I think actually that’s what’s most difficult about heading into the depths of winter. The lack of blue skies and sunshine. The persistence of oppressive grey clouds that linger above, taunting us. It’s the cycle of a pathetic fallacy where everything feels muted. The lethargy of winter and 4pm sunsets and cold fingertips has begun to seep its way in made all the worse by the lack of seeing of seeing my shadow outside. I know exactly how Peter Pan felt.
It’s not that I am resisting the change in seasons. My earlier optimism for autumn has not yet worn off, at least not entirely. It’s a case of remembering the transition once again, like every year before, of how to adapt. It means looking for reasons to stay grounded and connected.
This week I found out the winner of UK Tree of the Year had been announced. I didn’t even know there was an award for that. Organised by The Woodland Trust, 12 finalist tress were selected by an expert panel and 18,000 people voted for their favourite. It is spectacular and entirely worthy of such recognition.
A “magnificent 400-year-old tree [The Skipinnish Oak] stands tall in an airy clearing amid a dark spruce plantation in the heart of Lochaber, Scotland. Impressive in stature and history, it's one of the largest oaks in the region and a local treasure. The tree is also a crucial part of the ecosystem and hosts diverse lichens including the rare black-eyed Susan, which is seldom found outside the west of Scotland.”
How truly magical. What better way to stay grounded than to seek out the resilience of nature?
Now, for connectedness. I read an article in The Guardian this week about the feeling of ‘kama muta’. Kama muta is Sanskrit for “being moved by love”; the sudden feeling of oneness. In Sanskrit letters, it is written काममूत. An under-recognised emotion, it helps “to bind us to others and strengthen our relationships”. Psychological interest in kama muta is incredibly recent, with studies taking place over the last decade to uncover its presence in people around the globe. It helps to further validate the long held belief that care relationships are an integral part of the human existence. And helps to explain why we can sometimes show emotion in ways that are seemingly oxymoronic, like happy tears. Communal experiences are essential to our shared identity.
When the winter months can have the power to make us feel more isolated and shut off from the world, we must cherish our connections with others as this is when we may rely on them most.
Looking to the wisdom of others when it comes to making successful seasonal preparations,
is who I turn to. As well as her books Wintering, focusing on the healing powers of the natural world, and Enchantment, which is about experiencing life in all its sensual complexity, has been offering up ways to stay hopeful.On transition and nurture in November
If you’ve also been feeling a little drained of colour I hope this is useful food for thought. Is there anything you’ve seen, read or listened to lately you’d add here?
Thanks Mary!