Photo: Twilight during one of the short days. We’re smack in the middle of the short days. I’m absolutely delighted by these short days.
One of the things I’ve tried to do since moving back home to Maryland is to live more attuned with the seasons and love each of them for what they are. Winter in Maryland is a funny thing: it’s not cold enough until it is quite cold. It’s not snowy enough until we get snow and everything stops. There is much ado about precipitation: when will we get it and what form will it take? Since getting back, precipitation is a hot topic: we’re in perpetual drought, it seems. Haven’t had any hurricanes come dump water on us for a few summers, haven’t had lots of sustained snow with beneficial melt for spring growth. Even summer thunderstorms, which used to roll in like clockwork and soak afternoon metro commutes are irregular acts of violence, with much sound and little fury.
Growing a little homestead with chickies and a serious garden, my commitment to living the seasons has a new depth, even urgency. I welcome all precip, even if I dread the implications on daily school driving. I delight in the breezes, even if I worry about what the cold does to my poor little chickies. (They seem fine!)
But most importantly, and I do write this with sincerity, I have learned to love the winter with all my heart. I embrace these cold, dark weeks. I await them with glee. I use them as my best excuse. I will eat my fill, I will go to bed very early, I will wake up slowly, I will stare blankly out the window, I will lament when I have to be somewhere, I will wear layers of fabric with delight. I will be warm, I will seek warmth, I will offer warmth, I will embody warmth.
These are the dark weeks, the short days, the unhurried and unrushed.
I saw some posts on social media wholesale rejecting the “new year, new me” hustle stuff. Get the gym membership, set your goals, do the calendar, declare your intentions, hold yourself accountable. Witchy internet (my favorite internet) said no to these things. We are wintering. This is the resting time. In a few weeks, the energy and spirit for that will return but not now. We just turned the wheel of the year, celebrated the solstice.
When someone talks to me about goals and resolutions and year-long quests, I’ve been responding, “see you at the equinox with all that.”
Now, this isn’t to say that I am doing absolutely nothing. I’m writing, I’m running my home, I’m running my little org, I’m teaching (more on that in a second), and I’m even dreaming big dreams for the next 12 months. I’m just… not rushing to get started. I am, as they used to say in The Witcher, conserving my chaos. The year is here and so am I. It’s hurry up and wait. I’m still wintering. See you at the equinox for the higher energy work.
I’ll blog more–as the days get longer. Which they will. I sincerely hope to do more than I did in 2025.
I’m teaching a bunch and I hope you’ll come see me:
I’m teaching a 6 weeks, 6 stories class for GrubStreet starting in March
I will say–I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want this place to be. I’ve been thinking a lot about how deeply I dislike this current iteration of the internet. This isn’t going to be another place on the internet for hustle stuff, hot takes, or a general vibe of “here is my opinion on stuff.” Because… why would you want my opinion on stuff? I’m tired of everyone’s opinions on stuff. In this, I am permanently wintering.
Instead, I’m building welcoming space. With quiet thoughts. Maybe even helpful thoughts from time to time. If you vibe with that, I hope you’ll come back and see me sometime. I’m around. I am writing and I look forward to sharing more stories with you soon.
Until then, stay warm, be warm, embody warmth. And take good care.
Multiplicity: A Writer's Blog 