Midwinter - an otherworld of dying beauty, a dance of light and dark. Candles flicker and fairy lights twinkle against nights dark as Wild Hunt souls sweeping from frozen skies. We laugh and raise glasses, while also burrowing into blankets and our deepest thoughts. Midwinter, a time for celebration, a time for sleep.
Hello friends. This is my last letter of the year as I’m taking two weeks for rest and revel. To fully embrace midwinter’s magic, I’ve also decided not to continue with Vlogmas.
As I mentioned in my last post, I don’t think vlogs are right for me. I truly appreciated your suggestions, as they helped confirm what I already felt in my gut. It also feels reassuring to know that my writing, or perhaps the atmosphere I strive to create, is what you enjoy most. I’ve certainly felt pressure to move towards video, and while I enjoy watching vlogs, creating them diminished the mystery I cherish.
I’m still interested in video, but short, atmospheric films or reading my stories aloud feel more aligned with my creative path.
However, I’m grateful for my flirtation with Vlogmas! Now I have a better idea of what I’d like to create and feel excited to explore ways to combine my writing and video in 2023.
Past me would have felt compelled to finish what I started. But I feel it’s wiser to direct energy into the things that inspire instead of what drains.
Such as my favourite things about midwinter...
The traditions…
Cherished Christmas tree ornaments, a reminder of Grandad. My sister’s star-topped, sugar-dusted mince pies. Rereading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight as the sky grows thin. A walk over the hill after the first snowfall. Snowberry and evergreens on the window sill. Finding a quiet moment to watch The Tailor of Gloucester while making cards. Sifting through the ribbon box for a silky box that perfectly matches the wrapping paper. Leaving food for the crows on Christmas Eve. I carry these quiet moments with me when things get busy, as they inevitably do.
Rebirth…
December is renewal. A cleansing of light and fire. The bones of the old year are laid bare. The wind makes a song of the dead branches. Time to start again. What promises will I make? How do I want to feel? Snow falls on the old year like a crisp sheet. An unspoilt canvas. Blankness, possibility. We can always start over again.
The old ways…
Cradling a knobbly finger of birch bark all the way home to burn in honour of the Cailleach. A candle in the house, a candle in the wood. Collecting holly. Stirring the Christmas pud. Frozen air and winter gales, when journeys are to be made on foot or not at all. Winter brings the old ways close. Veils are torn, a skein of geese shrieks wild across the sky. At the time of yielding the life, at the time of pouring the sweat, at the time of shedding the blood…
Reflection…
December offers a brief pause. After Christmas Day the year takes a sleepy turn, a chance to reflect on the past year. 2022, my year of calm, beset by rough waters. But that’s not how I choose to remember it. I’ll remember 2022 as the year the stricken river thawed, and my decision to calmly accept where the meltwater flow took me.
The New Year is a star I don’t yet hold in my hand. The shape of it unknown, mysterious, and joyful. There’s plenty time - the span of a year - to become acquainted with 2023. For a moment longer at least, let’s linger in the light, in the dark, in the still sparkle of ‘I don’t know’.
Thank you so much for your kind words and support this year. If you left a comment, bought my book, subscribed, or donated, know that you’re deeply appreciated. I hope you have a peaceful Christmas and a magical New Year - see you in 2023!
Kate xx
the magic of midwinter
Your Christmas traditions sound so lovely! And I'm taking to heart your advice to put energy into what inspires instead of drains. I'm planning a lot for the new year, but today I realized it's not just about what I decide to create....it's what I decide not to create. We are only gifted so much precious time, and I want to make the most of mine. Here's to the new year and that beautiful 'sparkle of 'I don't know,'' as you so eloquently put it!
I love that you trusted your gut and followed your instinct around the vlogging. I totally understand that push to create more videos, but even though that's the trend right now, there's certainly power in admitting 'this format isn't for me.' I love the idea of you reading some of your work or making atmospheric videos (that's something I've been considering doing myself), and would certainly fit with the energy of your writing 😊