Photo by Ian Redding / Alamy Stock Photo

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.” -Robin Wall Kimmerer

For many, a new calendar year signals the opportunity to reset, reflect, and start afresh. It’s an unconscious and unquestioned rhythm baked into life’s flow. I have ridden with this rhythm for years, ignoring my body’s subtle and sometimes screaming pushback. 

However, my perspective on this accepted rhythm has shifted with the growing experiences that come with age.  This shift is akin to what older folx, who have been on life’s journey longer than me, have hinted at or flat-out shared over the years.  The curse and beauty of youthful energy is its ability to move with unabashed oblivion in living life as it comes, exploring, testing, and reshaping societal and generational boundaries. And in so many ways, that’s the way it should be.  

Each age brings revelation and wisdom, but the extra that comes with aging is the ability not to view things as a series of dissociated events but to start putting the pieces of life’s puzzle together. Putting the pieces together allows patterns to emerge and offers opportunities to make sense of them. The vigour of youth can obscure the patterns, rendering them nonexistent.  We hope that aging removes youth's cataracts, replacing them with discernment that comes with age.

For years, my body disconnected from the impact of seasonal changes on it. We live in a world that superimposes market-driven economic cycles on top of the natural rhythm marking seasonal changes. In entering the coldness of January, does the body feel all geared up and motivated to set and launch goals and pursue new, energy-demanding challenges? My body has been pushing back on the societal and economic imposed rhythm, and lately, I have been mulling over why this is the case. 

The reasons are complicated, and the resistance could be a combination of factors.

Aging, as alluded to earlier, is likely one. My body‘s reaction to seasonal rhythms is another. My foray into self-employment over a decade ago with its notional appeal of having greater control in setting and determining my schedule, yet another. Based on personal priorities and needs, I can choose when (scheduling), for whom (clients), and for what (nature of the work) I offer my services. The reality is that there have been years where my practice has deviated from my aspirations to be in complete control of my work-life choices. I have had to be flexible and malleable sometimes, deferring to the “I will take the work when I get it” livelihood approach. 

Whether contrarianism is a naturally occurring or acquired trait, as time passes, I am discovering and applying more and more of its benefits to work and play. Being a contrarian allows me to push boundaries, not fear questioning things, and be receptive to moving in a different direction. I don’t feel compelled to go with the flow if I perceive the flow is going in the wrong direction. I don’t fear missing out on anything if I fail to have huge goals at the start of the calendar year. 

The most profound influence on trusting my body's rhythm to guide my movements through the changing seasons comes from painful lessons of grief and loss. My body struggles under the weight of winter. It begs and screams for warmth to shelter me from the coldness of its grip. A heaviness descends as December approaches, bringing reminders of early winter warnings of family-related health scares and the loss of loved ones. My body yearns to be tucked in and protected from this winter’s long ache. 

So, what cumulative wisdom have I gained after living for several decades? 

It is hard to escape the lure of upbeat messaging from folx sharing their plans and resolutions for the year ahead with energy buoyancy, gusto, and determination. But I have intimate and life-changing experiences with making plans that unravel in the blink of an eye, faster than it takes to put them in place. Somehow, my body sways and rides with the rhythm of grief, finding a way to move forward one wave swell at a time.

Although I have a few specific goals for the upcoming year, I've chosen not to set ambitious targets during the winter months. At this time, my body feels more inclined to relax, hibernate and cocoon, rather than preparing intensely for a marathon to kick off the year. I understand the adrenaline rush that comes with the excitement of a new year. Still, I understand there will be plenty of company when lofty ambitions falter at the altar, where soon-to-be deflated plans will lie in misery. Plans can change on a dime.

My experiences have clued me to the probable regarding early-year plans and resolutions.  They tend to lose momentum by the end of January. Motivation for some will linger until at least mid-March, just in time for school spring break in Canada, which coincides with the growing need for a break. By then, many ambitious plans will fall to the wayside as if they never existed or were a priority.

My body has its distinct rhythm, and I have chosen to be attuned to and led by it. It’s a rhythm that aligns with the changing seasons and overlaps with my life experiences. And two years ago, a validation of this shift revealed itself.

Within weeks of the official start of winter, I underwent major knee surgery. My expectation going into the surgery was that I would be entirely out of commission for about three weeks, with no work at all. Realistically, I gave myself two to three months of grace to mostly recover. However, I underestimated the impact the medications would have on me and my body’s need to prioritize healing over anything else. 

Whatever internal dance my body was experiencing overwrote every desire my mind whispered.  And tried as I might to talk my body into moving the healing along, it refused. A dose of humour and folly so often accompanies big lessons in life. There I was, responsibly and diligently laying out plans with an assuredness that all other things, beyond my operated knee, would be unaffected. Then, the realization hits that everything else doesn't stay in a state of suspension.

Coming out of that experience was my cue.  It forced me into a prolonged stillness that slowed me down enough to reveal one of life’s wisdom. Pushing back and trying to overwrite the body’s natural seasonally-aligned rhythms continually is fertile sprouting ground for stress and anxiety, and that rapid pace and state of being is unsustainable. Something must give, and what often does is our physical and mental health.  I am grateful that my body's demand for healing took over and quieted my mind. Today, I am better for it. 

I no longer feel compelled to go with the demands of market-driven calendar cycles. Each year, it has gotten easier to muster the discipline to choose the 'ease back into work mode' by not going full throttle from zero to hundred within the first few months upon my return from self-imposed mid-December to mid-January winter break. I am in recovery. I opt for a gradual, smooth, seasonal-guided, and life-influenced ease back approach.

As a gardener, spring signals a time of rebirth and reawakening of species – plants, animals. This timing aligns with emerging from the weight of winter, my increasing energy, and a profound desire for my mind, body, and soul to thrive - continuing to heal and receive nourishment. My body knows spring is the perfect reset time for setting goals and pursuing them when my body’s energy is at peak flow. 

So, what about you?

Self-employment offers me flexibility that is unavailable and/ or impractical for some. I get that. But that said, is there some wiggle room within your personal circumstances and limits that allows you some degree of agency to include little practices that prioritize you and carve out time to slow, stop, or abandon the disembodying market-driven hamster wheel?  

Whatever your practice, however big or small, I’d love to hear what works for you in centring your mental, physical, and spiritual health, especially at this time of the year. We can all benefit from embracing practices that help to keep mind, body, and soul aligned and in harmony with nature’s seasons and abundance as we set, pursue, and reach towards attaining our goals.

Cozying up to winter’s life lessons and looking towards the energy of a renewed spring.