It begins to whisper bitter nothings in my ear like, "You're odd, Cindy, and no one can relate to you." "You're too opinionated and direct." "No one wants what you have to offer." We all have that inner voice at vulnerable times, and that's what mine says.
So after lamenting the fact that I had no one to share this lovely time of the year with, in this lovely place, I decided to offer its beauty and its creative opportunities to...myself. I suddenly realized I didn't have to chop up veggies, or clean up where I just chopped veggies or be "on," I could just enjoy the weekend instead of work the weekend. So I made a list of all the creative projects lying-in-wait around here and decided I would complete at least one.
I grabbed my camera and went up into the woods to walk off-trail in places I don't usually wander. I set out a book I would like to complete reading and then read for an hour. I wrote a poem sitting in the woods. I decided to blog about this experience and maybe each day the rest of the weekend. I reacquainted myself with the person that says, "I like to blog/create/write and would like to do it more often."
And that's just Friday afternoon! At some point on Saturday or Sunday, I will sit down with my present and future calendars, maybe by the fireplace after the cold front blows in, and engage with my own planned retreat program. I will thoughtfully go through each season and decide what needs to be different next year...and take it off the calendar or pencil it in. I will assess what gave me energy last year and what sucked the life out of me. I will ask what joy each month brings and give focus to that very thing by making plans, reservations, preparations, etc. I will mark down every birthday, anniversary, holiday, conference, full moon, meteor shower or other astrological event and give creative thought on how I could celebrate or honor them, or use them as prompts to put intention back in to my life. I won't do it perfectly, but it's a plan.
And then I'll go plant bulbs in preparation for Spring.