I'm exhausted. There I said it. It's my off season and it is flying by. I look at the ascending clouds on the La Platas and realize the winter solstice is upon us. In this realization I also see the coming of spring. Weeks before prep work begins again.
This last season was so much that I fear, it claimed a small piece of me and it has not returned to me yet. I have not been able to find the off button I so deeply need to calm my nervous system. Is this just from work and the summer garden?? No. I have had personal challenges and obstacles this year as well. Do I wish in a way that I could spew them here? Vomit the neccessary words out on this crisp white digital page? Of course. But I have come to realize my inner problems are not for sharing just now. I tried that over the summer and only gained more confusion in seeking outer guidance.
So truthfully it was a heavy season for many reasons. The garden was also not quite what was hoped for due to a cold heavy and long spring, followed by months without any decent rain. The high desert is fun like that.
Typically with winter - usually comes comfort - at least for me. This season however has brought about many questions and what feels like, zero rest. I find it near impossible to sit down and enjoy a movie with the kids, or sit and stare at the mountains turned indigo. Not because I do not have the time, indeed I do have a bit more freedom currently but I find the nagging inner ego picking apart any decision to sit in silence and just be.
Perhaps it is growing up a woman. Perhaps it is motherhood. Perhaps it is past shortcomings appointed to myself from others. Whatever it may be, I find myself unable to rest because I FEEL that my worth is wrapped up in what I do, what I produce, what I can show. I know this is wrong and harmful to myself and to my kids. I know it's okay to rest. But, how do I do it? How do I rest and actually rest while doing so!? Ha! Does that even make sense?
I've been praying, a LOT. Attempting to meditate. That's a work in progress. I've been reading, listening to podcasts and audible. I've been trying to write. Though I, suppose any writing, even poor attempts are good. I've been trying to look at the present moment but keep constantly finding my mind wandering to the past or to the potential future - unless I'm moving. Working out, gardening, walking around, cleaning. I'm trying God. I really am, trying to silence the noise. Practicing gratitude that I have lost over the last year. Chasing that dharma.
This is my dialogue for a flower farmer in the throws of winter.
To find the winter upon my soil,
creeping in as the freeze does coil
into the crevices of
micorrhizae and roots
in a world so small ;
unseen.
I could crawl into that
frigid dirt if my hands
and brittle nails were able
to scrape it away.
I could warm up and
finally rest in that
buried
world of white filament
repent
my deepest
convictions.