Winter Melancholy

It is currently a snowy Saturday, and I am curled up on the couch, watching the snowflakes descend from the sky. The melancholy of the view seeps into my soul, making me want to sob. The winter, in its barren state, feels like a mirror being held to my face reflecting the state of my soul. Be still. Rest. Pause.

So much of my week has been in reflection. Introspection of who I am and dynamics that I am responsible for helping to create. So much of this week has been journaling about the internal conflict of grappling between who I have been and how that no longer serves me as I move into a new phase. I feel sad for a former version of myself who was afraid of vulnerability and was too accommodating for others. A version that shrank for other people to feel comfortable.

This winter time of slowing down and hibernating is on par with my internal growth. I remember thinking about the fall in the same way in 2022. A pathetic fallacy of my current state of being. That time was one where I was very reflective on the things I was letting go of in an attempt to shed my layers upon layers to determine what no longer served me.

This time is a continuation of that work, but it's in the phase where the shedding has happened, and I have to sit with it. I have to be strategic with what I want to grow back once the ice and snow melt away, and life begins to grow again. I don't want to grow back my tendency to keep quiet due to my empathy, compassion, and understanding for a person when I am hurting by their action. I don't want to grow back my ability to settle for crumbs when I serve feasts. (Thank you, Sophia Bush, for that terminology.) I don't want to grow back my ability to have unconditional love when there are conditions of the love I receive back.

Don't get me wrong. I love my free flowing love of humans and humanity. I love that I can empathize with people so deeply and find their special qualities. I love that my offers come without expectations of reciprocity or are not transactional in response to something I can gain. I want to pour into the world and everyone in my life, but I can no longer empty my reserve to fill up someone else's who would never do the same in return.

But this is so very hard. I am pulled into two very different directions. One where I continue as I was, freely giving away, but being taken advantage of. I was a doormat that anyone could walk over because I never said stop. The other direction is being afraid of offering up my heart and resources for fear that it will be weaponized against me.

This week has been a very hard one because I have continued to fight this internal battle, where I feel like I lose. I lose because I feel like I am giving up, or I lose because I don't care, or I lose because I am making the wrong choice. My heart feels heavy having to make decisions when I want things to be easy. I am afraid of the outcome, even when I know that things will be okay once the dust settles. It has never been nor will it ever be easy for me to give up on those who I feel like have been discarded by others.

Ultimately, I am at an in between, where it feels like it has to be either/or. I am not naive enough to think that life works that way. There is a version where I can offer myself to others and have the discernment that not everyone can have it freely. Or that I can keep some of it for myself and not be considered selfish. The growing pains are still alive and well, and I know that soon the buds will appear that will grow into something beautiful. Without the fall and winter seasons that I have been through, those new growths wouldn't feel as special.

Something beautiful is soon to bloom, but first, we sit and wait, grateful for the pause. It is time for me to give myself grace. I am transforming into something new. I am doing the best that I can.