settling into winter... a writing life sampler to welcome 2025... whatever it may bring

First, a poem I constructed in late autumn 2024 inspired by a lovely poem by a dear friend.

*As I Settle in for Winter 

(My take on John MacKenzie's beautiful poem All Winter Long)

*As I settle in for winter and wild winds outside sweep the hardwoods clean

I gather in those fragments the years have lent me, 

line them up against the floorboards to settle in the grooves of memory, gathering dust.

Time, it seems, has worn these grooves so deep 

that small colonies of moss grow on the detritus there.

Amid the living tangle 

I find years and years of summertime's posies drying,

And the haunting chorus of peepers in springtime rattling joyous in my ears.

Breathing deeply I find that the bright fragrance of creeping thyme, pinched between my fingertips in late July, is singing hallelujah in my limbic system still.

As I settle in for winter

I draw nearer round me these memories and the comfort they bring.

Grasping them the way Pearly Everlasting clings to August's cape,

I sink down into their embrace and the memory of your skin on mine to warm me.

*As I settle in for winter...is the opening line of the poem All Winter Long by PEI poet, John MacKenzie.

Secondly, a writing response from a five day mediation and writing challenge I am taking through the generosity of writer Nadia Colburn...a beautiful way to ease into a new year of writing, is writing from a place of quiet and beauty.

After mediating on day one and following listening to the gorgeous poem From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee read by Nadia which I erroneously heard as Plum Blossoms (forgive me, I have been folding pretty Japanese paper into origami covered with fruit blossoms of late) Nadia then prompted us for a short, free- flow writing session. Here is what day one (Jan 10th) produced for me...raw and unedited...naked as the new year baby itself:

From wing to wing to wing

how else can we move through

these days of exile

days of darkness

days when we exist as though death were in the offing, sooner, much sooner, than later?

Oh how I want to teach you to live with the love of the orchard

ripe with abundance

to live with these blessings of joy

as reminders of life blooming

each breath in you

Life blooming and asking to see your jubilance at it.

To let joy be the power that lifts the wing to sky

that lifts the wing to sky and the heart to wanting to

taste the sky

to taste the magnificence of

being so open to life and its unfolding

that even in your closing for sleep

you are still wing to wing with the golden hour

wing to wing with the winter wonderland of trails quieted by snowy boughs

wing to wing with possibility dreaming itself through you

The world will try to numb you with distraction

to rob you of the one bright chance to show up dazzling

to show up beaming in jubilance

to show up exclaiming

I have tasted life

and though some was distasteful

what is good in the orchard

I have taken within

What is good in the orchard in autumn can hold me through the

cold of winter's night.

And thirdly, day two of the challenge, January 11th, 2025, saw me do a guided breathwork meditation, followed by listening to Nadia read aloud Mary Oliver's so wise poem,

In Blackwater woods

and then onto the free- fall writing exercise...all totaling approx 15minutes of combined meditation and writing each day.

Also, in its pure form...xo and keeping the line breaks as they were written. ;)

What if we awoke each morning

sunless or not

and greeted each other in

the kitchen

kettle boiling

as the pillars of light that we are

What if we came to know each

other's beings so deeply

that we only needed one

name for all we greet

Hello love

This morning when I awoke and looked to the west the sky had

a January magnificence to it

Late sunrise matched my late rising well enough that I caught the

sky wide remnants of

petals of that wildflower unfurling still across the land

A wash of soft peach above the snowy treetops, a blush really,

a blush that felt like an invitation

a blush of sky at being truly seen

And I wanted to run out into

the yard

and up the hill

through the park to the trail that would take me to the

opening of field and woods where

I could see the sea beneath

the blushing sky

The icy steel grey sea

the softly blushing sky

But I didn't- I reasoned with myself

that I needed food first

that I hadn't eaten enough yesterday

to trudge through snow with heavy boots on

So I stayed instead and put the kettle

on, emptied the dishwasher, started the laundry,

warmed leftover pancakes when my tea was ready

and sat to eat looking outside

and feeling so very sad

I am so sorry love

I failed to meet you yet again.

Last night at 2am I was up to go and pee- an early waking for me but then I fell

into bed exhausted early and fell asleep early also so this was no real surprise

and I came back into my dark room

and realized my floor beside my bed was illuminated in a way it rarely is...I sort of stumbled

across the wooden floorboards as though

they had a different dimension to

them as I fell onto our bed

I glanced outside in my half

asleep still stupor- no- the street light at the corner couldn't possibly

cast a beam of light gleaming on my floor

Look up old friend- look higher- and

there it was so high in the western sky

and almost full- the moon in a January night.

Thanks for reading my new year's ramblings.

I know there is so much heartache in this world and that my words may seem frivolous in the face of what horrors are unfolding but I go on woodland trail walks, meditate, drink tea and write as a way to honour myself and to build a heart- centered fortitude to help me navigate the deep pain I feel at the suffering of the world, this new year, 2025.

I also do these practices to see if joy might want to stop by for a visit. And lo and behold, it often does.

I acknowledge my privilege in doing so...and that my trail walks are often now through a post, tropical storm Fiona, partial clear cut of a treed woods I once held dear and grief is still my companion there, and especially on days I walk alone.

I wish you peace and wellness and the opportunity to heart center yourself so that you too may be strong and well and better able to cope with whatever 2025 may throw your/our way.

Wishing you, as well, the goodness of visitations of bright joy in the otherwise gloom of the world.

In hope and wonder,

Jill

XO to my dear west coast, fab artist friend, G, who lives way too close to the terrifying California blazes.

ps https://osupress.oregonstate.edu/book/gathering-moss My favourite book of 2024!