Rain drops fell incessantly, the drip, drip, drop creating a symphony of serenity, of nurturing…of cleansing. It doesn’t rain very often in Southern California, so when it does it feels imperative to revel in the rarity.
I had a teeming agenda for the day ahead that I’d diligently planned the night before, but the rain encouraged me to abandon the plan in lieu of one better suited for such a rare and tranquil rainy day. Rather than get dressed in my writing uniform of mom jeans, t-shirt, cardigan, boots, and of course, lipstick, I chose to stay in my sweats and opt out of brushing my hair.
Instead of heading out to my favorite coffee shop to set up my laptop and work, I wrote fervently from bed,inviting the rain to fuel my work with calm and clarity. I finished a book I’d been reading, and took detailed notes for future projects.
I burned sage and lit candles.
I listened to African drum music on Spotify.
I drank Persian tea with cardamom.
I did yoga and meditated.
It comes as no surprise or coincidence to me that tonight we celebrate the Winter Solstice—the longest night of the year. This is a time of introspection and quiet creation, a time where we naturally want to sow more than we reap, a time when it’s okay to spend more time searching and clearing than it is acting and choosing.
Have you ever noticed that Winter practically begs you to slow down? The days are shorter and the nights longer. The cold forces you indoors. You crave warm, comforting foods. You need more sleep and more solitude. This is what we’re drawn to, yet we often refuse it.
We resist the call to slow down because there’s simply too much to be done—the call to hustle far too strong and relentless. We turn our backs on our soul’s desire to go inward and instead spend this time of year buying (possibly unnecessary?) gifts at crowded malls, traveling in busy airports and train stations, and stressing out needlessly over what we believe we can and cannot eat.
Your soul is asking you to slow down, to breathe deeply, to connect with your internal landscape. Your soul is asking you to take this time, not to act, but to plan action—to sow seeds for the coming year.
As someone who is honored to be given the opportunity to share my musings with you over the past 8 years on this blog, I’m asking you to listen—no to me, but to your soul’s desire. Take more time in the coming weeks to center, ground, and connect to yourself.
Do a few minutes of yoga or stretch sore, stiff muscles; bundle up and go for a walk so that you might spend some sacred time with nature; pour a glass of wine and cozy up with a good book; take a bath with lovely smelling salts, maybe some frankincense or eucalyptus; light a candle and pull out your journal.
Go inside of yourself, introspect, reflect, and plant the seeds of intention—because sometimes the best course of action is the absence of hurried and frenzied action altogether.