The Art of Slowness

There is something about winter that makes me slow way down: the cold night air, the naked tree branches, the dried flower buds holding on for dear life–all are living proof that winter has arrived and the time to go inward is here.   

There is an art to slowness, although it takes time to master.  My mind still runs a mile a minute with things that need to be done; my body whispers, “What’s the big hurry? Enjoy the slowness, the dormancy of nature, this organic tapestry weaving time and energy together to restore and bloom come spring.”   

And so, there is not much of the garden left.  The cold night air and brisk winds have taken the last of the vineyard leaves down. 

A few flowers remain–red and white Cyclamens decorate my outdoor pots, and red Camellia buds are holding tight to open come February. 

This time of year makes me want to curl up by a warm fire and read a juicy book. 

Or take a little nap under a thick blanket with Amber who waits for me to take her inside.  These little moments say, relax into the day, it is ok. 

One of my favorite past times during the holidays, after I have made breakfast, dropped the kids off at school and spent my morning writing, is to sit in my living room with our Christmas tree all a glow, my candles lit in vigil, to relish the moment of this warm scene.  My home is my church, my sanctuary, my place of refuge. The art of slowness is mastered here.

One thought on “The Art of Slowness”

  1. Monica
    I like your concept of “slowness” although, for me, that doesn’t start until January, after the holidays. Prior to Christmas, it continues to be “rush to get those projects done!” Wish I could take a nap in your living room, the location of your candlelight vigil! It looks so comfortable, peaceful, and alive with love.

    The pictures you included with this post make your lyrical descriptions come alive. Seeing Amber outside on the wicker chair, the cyclamens in the outdoor pots, and the barren vines reminds me of the times we share on your porch after walking Jeb, Mame, and Beau = times of comfort, sharing, and an unique type of celebrating slowness throughout the year.

    Marilyn

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