Hello you,
Here we are, standing at the threshold. The shortest day of the year. The turning point. From here we walk back towards the light. One incremental step at a time. From here the new year is born.
This time of year holds a unique energy for me. These dark, quiet days pull me down into a deep introspection, different to any other. The liminal days from winter solstice to gregorian new year are a time for visioning in the dark, looking back at what the year held and forward to where I want to be going.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s also a time of mince pies and terrible Christmas movies, Boxing Day leftovers and crisp walks with loved ones, but running beneath the hubbub there’s always a hum of introspection and dreaming.
2022 was a year of surprises for me. Nothing went like I imagined it would.
This time last year I thought that life was finally settling down. The upheavals of the pandemic and moving house were fading and something more stable was ahead. This time last year I thought that 2022 would be the year that I really focused on growing my business.
I was wrong. Oh god I was so wrong.
Instead 2022 was the year I grew up, at the ripe old age of 39. Growing up is not a stable or settling process. Not in the slightest. But as I rode the waves of uncomfortable revelations and shadow work, I learned to take scared responsibility for myself. I learned to take my desires seriously.
2022 was the year that I learned, messily, how to trust the power that lives in me.
It was the year that I finally embodied something I’d known for a long time: that the pursuit of cool will suck the joy out of your life. That the false belonging of being like everyone else robs you of true, bone-deep belonging. It was the year that I gleefully embraced the big dork I’d been trying to shut away in a cupboard since my early 20’s.
2022 was the year I stopped being married, just shy of our 10 year wedding anniversary. And one of the biggest surprises in a surprising year was what a laughably joyful experience it was for both of us. How love can shapeshift and evolve when given a different container.
It was the year I fell in love, head over heels. And also walked into love, sure footed and intentional. It was the year that the protective armour I’d been wearing for so long could be put down at last and I could open to receive. Where I cultivated the embodied capacity for safety that allowed for a love that is grounded and expansive and vulnerable and magic.
And, so’s not to get too unicorns and sparkles, 2022 was the year my business slowed to a trickle. It was the year I forgot how to write publicly (see the months-long gap between letters here, for example) and I worked in a bar to cover my bills. It was a year where fears and doubts crept in, where old structures had to fall away, and in their wake I found new pathways that will unfold in my work going forward.
2022 was a transformative year. I’m walking across this solstice threshold a very different version of myself. And, as it’s kind of what I do and what this letter is for, I’ve been trying to figure out what I did that allowed that transformation.
I think the root of it all is that I learned to tell the truth. On a deep embodied level.
The truth of what I need, and who I am. The truth of the energy that moves through my body, the intuition that rumbles and tugs at my gut, and the things I know unquestionably beneath the stories.
I told the truth to myself first and foremost, and then out into the world. Even when I didn’t want it to be true. I wrote it out, spoke it out, moved it through my body. I told the truth until it became my default, choosing it again and again when I found myself at difficult crossroads.
And as I sit in these dark, liminal days, imagining into the year ahead, I know that the truth will come with me. I don’t know the shape of everything else, the surprises of 2022 have shown me that, but I know that trusting the truth will lead me where I need to go.
And that’s my hope for you too. That in the hibernatory dark of winter a seed of truth is planted, something to honour in yourself. And that it might unfurl and flourish as the year turns.
No matter how you’re spending it, I hope you have a wonderful, restful end of the year. Can’t wait to make some magic with you in 2023.
Gifts under the tree
Tis the season, my friend. To celebrate the winter solstice, may I offer you a moment of slowness in the flurry of the festive season. A chance to gather yourself back in and remember your light.
The final episode of Wayward Bodies for the season is a yoga nidra practice designed to do just that. Grab a blanket and get cosy. Together we’ll slide our way into deep rest.
Last call for Touchstone
What I offer is evolving, and it’s time for a new year refresh. Which means that come the end of January 2023 I’ll no longer be offering single session embodiment guidance.
These sessions are 90 minutes for you. A container to release the energy of the year closing and open to what comes next. It’s the opportunity to start the year rooted into yourself. Resting, breathing, and recentring so that your visions for the year ahead can grow from a steady, embodied place.
Soooo if you want to start the year with an embodied check in, then now’s the time to grab a spot.