Letting My Field Lay Fallow

Having spent my childhood in the midwest, the sights of empty fields in winter always brought me a sense of peace and comfort. The land had given up everything it had for its harvest of corn, soybeans and alfalfa. Now it was time to rest. The frost covered expanses of brown soil only added to the image of being under the weighted blankets of winter. January feels like that. The darkness of winter solstice carries on for many weeks before we sense any increase in light. And the added chill in the air invites us into the extra weight of fleece and flannel holding us deeper into the couch. We have traversed through the turbo speed of the fall holidays - Halloween, followed on its heels by Thanksgiving and right into the rush of Christmas. And then suddenly it stops without warning. The invitations for holiday dinner cease and we realize there is no plan for dinner without a run to the grocery store. Gradually we come to realize that this is the time that nature has built into our rhythm for good reason. Slow down, breathe, cover yourself in blankets and just sit for a bit. Take a minute and become aware of this moment in time. Give thanks for the slower pace where you can actually plan out the next few weeks or months. Let yourself be reborn into resolutions or a single word to carry you into and through the new year. Take time to be, just to be. Think and ponder who I am becoming. Is it pleasing to me? Am I searching for something more? I am embracing this current feeling of emptiness. For now, I will honor the darkness, the cold and the extra layer of blankets on the bed because this too shall pass. Soon it will be time to plant again and this gift of time and empty boxes on the calendar will have vanished. In its place will be yet another rush to be, to accomplish, to do.