35 Comments

I feel this one. It’s hard to Winter without feeling isolated, like a dark house looming on a hill. On one hand we need each other, to see lights on in the neighbor’s windows. On another, sometimes it’s nice to sit in the dark and listen for something quiet and new. As you describe here, I feel the journey of it all - especially the sanctimonious urge to point out others flaws or problems (which really describe what we see clearly in ourselves, and what is easy for us to relate to). Maybe we need to find new ways to make it through. A wonderful post!

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I totally agree with the urge to point things out--the ways I judge others are always indications of what I'm hiding from myself in one way or another. And yet, AND YET there are so many people who could do with some deeper self reflection :)

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Absolutely 😃

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Isabel, as I was reading your words here I found myself sitting up taller. My antenna peaked because in my head I heard, “holy shit. She’s speaking my language - just a lot more eloquently.”

I am so sorry for your loss. And I know exactly what you mean about the sadness delivering us joy, eventually and sometimes simultaneously. This has been my experience. At times it feels like a betrayal to the pain that truly is here to teach us (not torture us).

Thank you for writing this. I am perpetually worried my wintering won’t leave. Your words help so much. Sometimes I feel like the only one who insists on tap dancing in her unprocessed grief. Wanting/needing to stay there.

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Oh gosh this comment means so much to me, Allison. Thank you. I definitely feel like staying here a while--but I'm also glad to know grief is an experience with many emotions held inside it. I go up, I go down, I go sideways a little and then upright again. I think the most impactful insight I had is that joy is not disallowed. It definitely helps with how much I judge myself, and more importantly... other people. Because what's the point of grieving if not to be tenderized to others' experiences?

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Yes, grief is so multilayered. Joy is not disallowed. I love that. I do find myself surprised when joy comes snapping on sorrow's heels.

Tenderness is so necessary. Thanks for writing about all of this.

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You’ve reminded me of a quote from To the Lighthouse: “We must light matches against the darkness… even though we are bound to be worsted.”

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And wow how much light a single match can make!

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From your heart to ours.

Relatable is quite a lame-ass word and yet most of us can crawl into the words of this fine essay to firmly, sanctimoniously, declare "me too".

May your grief and sadness settle be gentle on your heart and may your boys be done vomiting for the season.

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Donna, I am so grateful for you. Someday I'll look at the vomiting as a distracting hilarity... But only when the nationwide norovirus flare subsides!

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me too!

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I’m sorry for your loss 🫂💕

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Thank you, friend.

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So many of your sentences are so well put and speak to me. I so relate to your reference to the “in-between.” I’m always feeling like I am living in the in-between and all its ups and downs - between learning about climate change and experiencing its catastrophic impacts; between middle age and old age; more recently, between democracy and autocracy; between having grandchildren and great-grandchildren; between one good meal and the next good meal; between the winter solstice and the summer solstice; between joy and sadness. I suppose it is all the in-between, between birth and death. Thank you for your thought-provoking writing.

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Wow, YES. It's all an in between and we're always in transition. I feel the climate change example with particular poignancy. We knew it would come, but what will its effects really be? It's easy to get defensive and sanctimonious when you're scared as well as sad. The verb that comes to mind is "allowing" even though I also want to fight! A season for everything, I suppose.

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"I’m bitter when I forget to sustain the depth with uplift." This such a crucially observed (and truthful) necessity as without comparative balance our emotions exist in a vacuum trapped in frozen earth and even as your loss pains me Isabel it wasn't for nothing if you can refashion, harness, share its meaning with such tender helpful feel of its contours gentle probing fingers against a wound in a specific place but aware of the readiness of other sentient areas free of pain to fill the void... this accretion of challenges the void we face in the end may be just another winter where old strategies merge with newer ones and the permission to isolate (for me anyways) is something to cherish. xo

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It's true, I can feel the sweetness of this time. I guess maybe I'm old enough to appreciate the impermanence of every experience. This season isn't exactly FUN, but it sure is rich. And all the moods are bearable when I feel understood, so thank you. 🧡

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I'm so sorry, Isabel <3

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grateful to have you here 🧡

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Sending solace to you, dear Isabel. xo

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Thank you, Val I appreciate you so!

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I'm sorry for your loss and grief, Isabel. I'm awash in an inchoate sadness, plus everything else you described. I'm there. We're there with you. Thank you for reaching out in this way. 🩶

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The times are very strange, indeed. It's inside and it's outside and I think maybe the sages are in some kind of grief all the time, even when they sing and dance.

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So goddamn relatable. Thank you!

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Means so much from you, Anna. Thanks.

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“It’s one thing to ask your mother to wash saltine-colored barf, but CHERRY MANGO? Fuck all of y’all.” 😭😂 Also, anyone who uses the word harrumphed has my heart.

I’m so sorry for your loss, Isabel. I’ve always found loss in the winter months feels extra magnified. The silence makes the incessant throbbing of grief deafening to our senses. Proud of you for getting out for that walk!!!!

My winter joy is right now. Overcast, bitterly cold, quiet, DARK. Aquarius season too…oooph, I’m in my elements! Give me your woes and your joys, I adore all of it. 🫂💕

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Now that I've turned the corner I must say, I am relishing the clarity of these cold, quiet days. I can tell how generative the hunkering is. I feel myself grounding and aligning... So much can spring from that rootedness and I'm learning to love the elegance of waiting.

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" I worry that 2025 will be a whole year of wintering. We’re awash in collective, unprocessed grief and overdue for deep reflection."

Isabel. You wrote exactly the sentiments I have been hearing from people all around me. Spot on. Your essay this week links to my own disdain for this whole sexy "wintering" movement ( Sorry Katherine). I'm not a winter gal. I live with a winter man. He whistles and runs outside to shovel with glee. I live here in winter but it's not my thang. If there is one gift that wintering has given me is this " permission to be ok to not like winter ." And so...there it is for me.

PS. For you.. I get it. Winter plus having things happen like loss events/norovirus while in Florida holiday paradise...deserves all the angst you want to write about. Let's give ourselves permission to say it like it is. And you do. And that's why I adore your honesty room essays.

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Yes, unfortunately for all my readers my processing has to happen out loud 🤣 But I do feel lucky to metabolize my experiences quickly... I can feel this winter shifting into a new season already, especially now that I've aired the angst out. xx

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You mean fortunately!

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BTW, I am sorry for your loss💔

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Excellent observation/evaluation... I am desperate to find a way through this winter w/out killing my neighbors; seriously tribal, white, old people. I am an old white person, but I think in another life I was not😂. I want to like my neighbors rather than tolerate them in a condescending way, but their constant self absorbed interests only fuel my anger and intolerance. I have isolated & hibernated way past the Covid date in an almost dangerous way. I needed this kind of read, thank you, Isabel💞

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This is exactly what I needed today. My feelings all summed up by your fluent words that bring such comfort and hope. Thank you, Isabel. I’m going to follow your example and go for a walk. There’s such restorative power from being outside. Sending healing energy your way as you navigate the waves of grief. I’m so sorry for your loss. 🤍

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