#change

hibernation: the beauty of winter’s hush

/ Joy Lenton / 2 Comments

It’s winter in the northern hemisphere and I’m in hibernation mode. My mind and body are not inclined to be active much at all. They’ve probably been frozen over with fatigue for far longer than winter’s chill has existed.

I’m zombie-like with hypersomnia. Sleeping as if it’s going out of fashion and there’s no tomorrow. Starting each day late, always playing catch-up and chasing my tail Though there’s one redeeming feature because my creativity has sparked into life again. Hooray!

I’ve recently joined Substack and have been writing a few posts there, but I don’t intend to stop writing at this website even if it’s sporadic. Here’s a poem I penned a while ago that I’m sharing here for you alone. Though the topic is wintry, may it warm your heart, my friend.

Hibernation


This shrouded silence 
speaks of:
a world on pause,
earth on hush,
a deep humility
known only in rest, in stillness
and dependency.

Earth, its inhabitants
and animals 
hunker down, retreat
from the cold outside
and retreat into
themselves, their inward
thoughts and lives.

Escape seems natural
when the environment
is hostile
and we crave warmth,
companionship, the flame
of hearth and home
in preference to searing
chill and cold.

We create an alternative
environment:
one of abundance
instead of scarcity,
and warmth and heat,
instead of a prolonged,
deepening freeze.

Within this cocoon
we gather 
as we used to, eons ago:
seeking shelter,
sharing laughter,
sharing life and food,
and stories to nurture
our sleepy souls.

And we might forget
how our own 
deep work of soul and body 
sustenance
is going on deeper still, 
beneath the frozen
surfaces in a hibernating,
wintry world.
© joylenton

Winter’s changes blessing 

We bless the changes wrought in winter, the loss of balmy days that are far behind us now, because what lies ahead is wintry chill as daylight gets extinguished.

We bless the greater soul attentiveness and deliberation we need to help ease our sadness at losing the light outside, to which we gradually become resigned.

We bless the way bright colours drain, vanishing from the landscape as if sluiced away by rain, because it leaves an opening for monochrome miracles.

We bless the increasing cold that catches in the throat, freezes our bones and makes us long for home, fogs our breath and stirs our sleepy senses. 

We bless the quiet, soft stillness of snow, juxtaposed with crisp and hard ice crystals, and the way it causes a landscape to become rearranged, draped in unfamiliarity which brings with it a hint of mystery. 

space: creating room for our souls to breathe

/ Joy Lenton / 6 Comments

Moving house 2 years ago meant a great deal of necessary sorting, sifting and discarding took place. We are slowly still going through our belongings, seeking to pare back to those things which fit where we are now and how we live. I’m attempting to adopt a “buy less/buy better” policy with my clothes as well.

Letting go and surrendering is tough. We get attached to stuff, and can struggle with the changes and upheaval required before we can reach a place of acceptance and calm.

Making space

Today they’ve mown down 
the cow parsley,
trampled the brown-crisped
remnants of Queen Anne’s Lace

to let the grass breathe,
to create a new space 
where blackbirds can 
stop and sit and congregate 

and hop in the shade
of the apple tree,
and sift the powdery 
dregs for edible seeds,

dip their beaks
into dried-out, sun-baked ground
with patient perseverance,
with hope and faith.

And as I watch them eat,
I think about the husks 
I bear inside, 
dried-out shells of places 

way past all watering 
because they’re wilted, limp,
dying, slain 
like shredded lace, no longer 

fit for purpose—
if I could only learn 
to relinquish, surrender 
them bit by bit

to the One who waits, and wants 
to create something new, 
something better 
in their desiccated place.
© joylenton


It’s also really hard to let go of old mindsets, habits and thoughts, isn’t it? Yet we’re encouraged to notice what doesn’t fit who we are as children of God, and to seek the Holy Spirit’s help in weeding them out to give our souls room to breathe and be at peace.

If there’s no clearing out, we’re in danger of getting stuck in the ruts of past behaviour and negative thinking. The key to overcoming the pang of loss is to fill the gap with positive ways to live, think, and behave that enrich our lives, rather than diminishing it.

Beauty and strength come from surrender. It might sound counterintuitive but it’s healthy for our souls. In the act of surrendering to God, we give Him carte blanche to help us become the very best version of ourselves.

change: on yearnings, adaptation, and gratitude for where we are now

/ Joy Lenton / Leave a comment

“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.” — Henry David Thoreau

Yearning for change

These naked limbs, 
licked and warmed 
by sun’s soft caress,
have their arms open 

for an early entry 
of spring, longing deep
at the heart 
for sap to rise again 

and the blooming
of buds to start
to burst forth, giving them
a new dress, new chorus.

Each branch,
every stem 
and arthritic twig reaches
up to the heavens,

like a prayer, a plea
to be noticed,
to be spared the worst
of winter’s onslaught,
and to have a fresh
covering of leaves
as chill winds blow,
leaving them drawn taut. 

But even so,
they might forget just how
majestic they are 
in their pared back 

barrenness, their state 
of cold undress,
which has its own perfect 
beauty we observe, its own

form of sculptural loveliness,
as we stop and pause
from our labours
to watch nature at work. 
© joylenton

“There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature—the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” — Rachel Carson

This poem arose when I paid attention to the apple tree outside our living room window. The more I studied it throughout the day, the more my sympathies were engaged and my gratitude enhanced for simply being here, acting as a silent observer of its wintry state and potential future growth. Because immersing ourselves in nature, in small ways and large, is a great way to stir creativity and bring us a deeper measure of soul peace.

“Change” happens to be my #oneword365 for Poetry Joy this year. Where are you receiving reflective thoughts from the created world as it beds down for winter yet retains a new kind of beauty in its structure, its place of peace and quiet repose? Do share below. 🙂 ❤

“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.” — Eckhart Tolle