Autumn into winter is my favourite time of year. I love how nature sheds her skin; wild things stockpile life essentials to coorie down in quiet dens, and the stasis of bulbs and trees. I’m inspired by the fall, the bands of light, the nip in the air. The quiet inspires.
Anyone who knows me knows how much I detest the hyper-commercialised consumerist calendar. It kills my soul knowing how profoundly distant we’ve become from the roots. It’s devolution, not evolution.
It’s a challenge to blot out that noise, and soak up the beauty beneath the tinsel, plastic, the abundance of waste and inhale the earth’s quiet song. It’s what I’ve always wanted to impart to my children, to appreciate and take stock of the real gifts and not presents that contribute to so many wrongs. Presence over presents. Appreciation of life not stuff. That noise has always fed my depression significantly.
As much as I’ve always been drawn that way, when I had the privilege of having my children, some folks expected that would change. And suddenly, I’d be all in for—Santa, Christmas, consuming and following the masses in the noise, the greed, the expectations, the stress. It’s depressing. It’s started early this year. My family’s den isn’t far enough away from the noise.
Clan Witch & Word Refinery 