Seasonal Reflections

Once we arrive in autumn in the journey towards winter in Scotland, we are surrounded by change in the landscapes around us. We are been mesmerised by a fiesta of colours as trees and foliage transformed from fifty shades of green to  every possible colour through the leaf rainbow towards soft brown. We have seen all shades of red, orange, yellow, russet in a constantly changing kaleidoscope of autumnal colour all around us. 

The trees rapidly shed their colours and glorious branch sculptures emerge, spectacular especially when silhouetted against a stark wintery sky. Since returning to Scotland six years ago where the seasons have different characteristics, I have found this process humbling and it continues to take me by surprise.

A number of weeks have already passed since we shed Summer Time in the UK, and returned to standard GMT (Greenwich Mean Time). This shunted sunset abruptly by an hour and in Scotland we suddenly lost daylight well before the end of the regular working day. The days continued to shorten rapidly, by around 2 minutes in the morning and another 2 -3 in the afternoon. Soon by mid afternoon the light and colour starts to bleed from the sky and the sun sinks earlier each day, eventually slowing to a sunset well before 4 pm, though the onset of evening is felt often by 2 pm, especially on a day when cloud cover is thick. There are days when the light is reluctantly switched on long before the low sun actually sets.

It is at this time of year that my thoughts focus on my three word mantra. It has accompanied me all year long, walking quietly by my side, encouraging me and reminding me of the tone  and focus I had wanted to set for this year. It is at this time of year that I reflect on how each of the three words has guided me as I prepare to move towards a new year, and a new set of three words.

My three word mantra for 2023 speaks to me of my first full year in this middle land of “soft retirement”. Not quite full retirement, but a pause from the merry go round of formal work and the increased space to spend time truly unfurling – prioritising time to write, explore creative outlets , writing, rebuilding my strength and health, and venture out on gentle explorations around me. 

My first word of 2023 has been “harvest”. This recognised that over my lifetime I have a gathered a hoard of treasures. In addition to the physical collection of tiny and not so tiny mementoes of a life in many different places, each with their own memories and significance, there is a wealth of less physical items. I have so many memories, stories and experiences to relate, thousands of photographs, and so many words! Words in half written and fully written stories, poems, and fragments of bigger works such as the memoir. A clear intent behind “harvest” has been to gather these together and shape them into something more manageable and meaningful. And this has galvanised me into refining, organising and shaping my writing in particular. The year has seen encouraging progress in putting together poetry into a broader collection and even resulted in a longlisting for a poetry pamphlet, an evening in the local library sharing my poetry with a warm audience and other steps forward in the writing journey. There is still a long way to go, but the processing of harvesting has undoubtedly guided and encouraged me on the path.

My second word has been “sculpt”. It holds precious association as my mother discovered her talent for sculpture late in life and in her final years was able to develop that creative outlet. It is an important reminder that finding and pursuing that passion requires a balance in shaping our days. “Sculpt” has both validated my recent decisions to prioritise my creative activities as well as pushing me to be intentional and deliberate in how I shape my time. I have been proactive in connecting with the many opportunities, activities and communities which exist. This has resulted in days and weeks which are pleasantly busy and a diary which requires a bit of juggling. But how wonderful to be juggling diary commitments such as writing groups, poetry sessions, Qi Gong classes and the like. If I sit back and don’t sculpt my days, they disappear with a sense of regret. Of course, I do enjoy being able to take my days gently but having some shape is not only motivating but has also produced results from my harvesting.

My third word has been “flutter” and it complements the other two. While sculpting has planning and shaping integral to its purpose, “flutter” gives the permission to wander off when a new idea or opportunity flitters across my vision. I love spontaneity, and I perhaps relish in distraction a bit too much. However, giving myself permission to allow some fluttering when my attention is caught by a surprise, means that I am more intentional overall and have space for flutterings. And in the more literal sense, I still have a fascination for butterflies and their incredible innate magical transformations and migratory patterns. I am constantly astounded that a butterfly will migrate across continents and generations to settle in a place where that little butterfly has never been. How amazing that fluttering can open up unexpected journeys and possibilities.

A waxing crescent moon reminds us of our place in the universe.

The days march rapidly forward, and as I emerge from an unwelcome visitation from Covid, I find that I have lost precious weeks at this time of year. We now have just three more sunsets until we reach the winter solstice, when the sun will reach its furthest point from the north and begin its journey back towards us. Knowing that the days will lengthen and that a new year will soon begin breathes renewed energy to the search for the perfect three words to guide me through 2024.

It’s that time of year …

It’s that time of year, finally. The day in the northern hemisphere marked in our emotional calendars as the turning point towards longer, lighter days. The winter solstice is here, and while the day today is bright, the sun barely lifts above the rooftops before it dips and not long after lunchtime the light fades. Tonight sees the longest night and from tomorrow the days will start, slowly initially, and gradually pick up speed as they lengthen. It’s a dark time of year literally, and in other ways too, so the promise of lighter days ahead is important. We are emerging from an extremely cold spell and the temperatures have now risen above zero, for a few days at least. The deep freeze outside is finally thawing and the birds can land on water instead of ice outside my window.

It’s that time of year when we have ten more days left of the year, and for the past weeks I have been reflecting as well as thinking ahead. At this time of year, I reflect back on the words I selected for my three word mantra and review how well they have guided me.

It’s that time of year when I am thinking of the right words to guide me through the coming year. I step back and think of priorities and areas which I need to focus on. I am surrounded by words, as I seek the perfect way to articulate what I aim for in the coming year. For the past weeks I have been jotting down words I see, or hear or read if they chime with my purpose. I have pages in my notebook alive with spider maps of words, synonyms, ideas and random thoughts as I shape the mantra for 2023. 

It’s that time of year when I have favourite words, sometimes a reasonably firm choice, sometimes a group of words which have not yet gelled into the mantra or are missing that final perfect word. This year I have three words which may (or may not) emerge as the final choice. 

Tea, words and reflections – shaping the 2019 3 word mantra

It’s that time of year when I try my words on and wear them before I commit. They need to fit and be comfortable, and we need to trust each other. 

And it’s that time of year when I wrap myself in my current words, “unfurl, forage and savour” and appreciate how they have guided and supported me through the year before I place them gently to the side with the words of previous years which have walked alongside me.

Yangon mornings in images

Dawn seeps over the Yangon skyline, on the winter solstice morning.

Children with their traditional schoolbags, green lyongi and white shirt uniforms, and thanaka on their faces.

The thanaka logs.

A 3 seater trishaw in the lane.  Incredible how the drivers manage to sleep soundly on these!

Pink robed nuns in prayer.

A lone monk with his fan to shield the sun when it comes up, and his string of blooms for offering

The line of monks, as the sun rises, in a line to collect alms.

 

The start of another December day in Yangon.