Winter in My Soul

Winter lends itself, more than any other time of year I think, to the welcome sort of solitude and melancholy that fills me up with meditative calm. It can feel bleak and beautiful at the same time, as long as I’m not in a particularly dark place emotionally. The kind of cold and emptiness that sear the lungs and sting the eyes can sometimes set the soul on fire with inspiration and, concomitantly, a sort of scraped-clean elation.Photo montage + text: Writing & Silence

12 thoughts on “Winter in My Soul

  1. You had me thinking with this post. I am usually slower at work, which usually offers me more time for myself. However, the lack of sun, cold and extra hassles of winter are starting to get me down. I really need to move south!

    • I get the winter blues myself (including a mild version of SAD, at times), but have managed most of the time to channel that into intentional maundering—a good way to find inspiration for darker and drearier topics, if I wish—and then give myself the kick in the pants needed to look in brighter directions and let the bracing change lead me to happier stuff. Not *always* entirely successful, but generally speaking….
      xo

  2. Part of a Jacques Red poem I love (not my own translation):

    In truth winter is the most perfect of seasons
    In which each branch fills with precision its form
    And is no more than a branch, repeating
    Its perfect presence between the sleeping depths
    of daylight and the unrumbling torrent of the clouds.

    • Yes! Today was exactly that day, for me, and now I feel like after a good night’s sleep tomorrow will be a welcome day of productivity again. After lunch, at least! 😉
      xo

  3. Pingback: Jaques Réda’s Elegaic Calendar | Gert Loveday

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