I find myself feeling a wide array of emotions this time of the year. Pressure to do. January blues. Looking back, looking forward, and looking inward. New ideas swirl around my head like dancing clouds; a wonderland of dreams that are… still a work in progress. And yet, a subtle voice within whispers:

“Wait. For it is winter.”

Some consider January a time to take action, driven by determined resolutions and lofty goals. For others, it is a rather melancholy month. For me, it’s shaping up to be quite a reflective season.

In winter, nature is quiet. Winter brings us long stretches of darkness and dreamy silent nights. Bare branches and gray skies… the clean smell of the earth after rain and the magic of snowfall. Bears snuggled up in hibernation, and flocks of geese gracefully flying in the cold winter air.

The gift of living a mindful life is that we become attuned to our innate needs and the subtleties of nature, even when the voices around us echo… other messages. The cultural noms we’ve absorbed over time form a melting pot, mirroring societal expectations and adopted beliefs about all the things we could be doing, we should be doing. However, as we observe the natural world and tune in to our inner world, there is so much more to be discovered. In his book, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, Rick Rubin says: 

I am in awe of how much can happen in just one calendar year, in one rhythmic cycle of the seasons. 

2023 presented me with a call to focus on the needs of my children, get my house in order, and hone in on an endeavor I started early 2021: finish my yoga therapy training.

It was a long season of turning inward. I became more intentional with my time and with my choices. 2023 shaped out to be one of the most rewarding years of my life. I enjoyed quality time with my daughters, became sole owner of my home after a long, grueling process, and took a dream trip to Italy with my love. And in December, I graduated.

Miracles happen when we listen to the call within and align our actions with those whisperings.

2023 also turned out to be one of the most challenging years yet. Our family faced hardship that I didn’t see coming. At this same time last year, I watched the health of my oldest daughter quickly decline as her body became frail and her mental health spiraled.

She was facing her own internal winter.

One cold late-January morning, Brinn joined me for a yoga class I was teaching. I observed her slowly move her fragile body from pose to pose with very little energy. And yet, she was so strong. Afterwards, we went to a coffee shop together, where we sat, engaged in honest conversation. As I sat across from her, I noticed how thin and delicate her face had become. Gray circles formed under her eyes. The light she so naturally emanates, dimmed by darkness. Brinn exudes a radiant, quiet confidence that is endearing. However, on that day, I realized that she was sick… very sick.

That was the day…  she told me the truth of it all.

At first, I felt a lot of guilt and shame, and a bundle of other emotions. How could I not know? It all happened so gradually, and yet so suddenly. I knew that she was dealing with some difficult things, as it was plain to see, but I didn’t realize the depth of her suffering until it was almost too late. With an honest plea for help, she sought therapy and medical assistance, working closely with her doctors.

I witnessed her choose her life and bravely face recovery.

On Feb 23, 2023, our family drove to a town outside Sacramento where Brinn would spend the next several months receiving treatment for disordered eating, specifically anorexia nervosa, compounded by other mental health issues. Focusing on restoration of her body and mind.

It rarely snows in our neck of the woods, but that day there was a hailstorm, which turned into a light snowfall. I felt the rhythm of Mother nature alive in my mothering bones. The weather outside matched the storm I was feeling inside. Fear followed by peace. The entire experience felt surreal.

Grief settled in. I saw the impact this had on her sisters who always looked to her as a source of strength. It was turning out to be a dark winter for us all.

This was the first time in 18 years I was not living with my daughter. In her absence, I missed her presence. Each day, I would go into her bedroom, which became a haven for me. The walls of her room filled with all the things she loves: art, poetry, music, flowers, and beautiful words. I sat in quiet meditation with tear-filled eyes and a broken heart, wondering how this all could be. In many ways, she was thriving: working hard, enjoying community college, and living a good life. Yet, she was suffering. 

Several months before this, I landed a job leading yogic practices at an addiction recovery center. This turned into more work, and soon I found myself working in multiple recovery centers, meeting an assortment of people dealing with various addictions and mental health issues. This work is not glamorous; however, it is deeply fulfilling. It has opened my eyes. Patients in recovery are of all genders, ages, backgrounds, and socioeconomic status. Addiction does not discriminate. It impacts us all.

When I was led to the recovery space, I had no idea that my own child would be heading to recovery herself, soon after. I am in awe of how the universe works for us and the timeliness of it all.

On Sundays we would go visit Brinn at the treatment center. I had the opportunity to meet with her one on one; utilizing the tools of yoga therapy, to assist in her healing process; tailoring a unique plan of care for her to work with. During our visits, we shared some very raw and intimate moments. I will always remember our time together fondly.

I watched Brinn embrace these tools, day in and day out, among other techniques she learned from her caretakers. Slowly, over time, my beautiful daughter began to come alive again.

I feel so much gratitude for each person who played a role in her recovery, including our friends and family, as well as her therapists, nurses, nutritionists, and doctors. Recovery is enhanced by having a genuine support system.

Fast forward one year later. Brinn is back at home, living an intentional, purposeful life. Working and wrapping up her Associate’s Degree at the community college, with a major in English. Preparing to travel to Paris this summer to study abroad. Writing poetry, playing the piano, and engaging in a variety of physical and mindful practices. Her recovery continues, but her life is filled with wonderful things.

She attends a yoga class I teach in my community once a week, and I watch her move from pose to pose in a new way, often with a soft smile on her face. Brinn is herself again. And yet, she is different. She has been transformed through her recovery… her spark is back.

Sickness replaced by confidence, darkness by radiance, and sadness by joy.

I am inspired by Brinn’s choice to heal and the ripple effects of that choice.

Recovery is not a destination; it is a process. Healing is ongoing and ever unfolding.

Watching Brinn navigate her personal journey has opened my eyes. Awakening me to the ways diet and exercise culture have influenced me. Allowing me to see more clearly the impacts that culture, media, genetics, and family history play in disordered eating and mental health issues. Accepting responsibility with compassion and understanding. Adopting new ways of thinking and living, specifically around food, exercise, and rest. Reminding me to listen to the language of my body and the wisdom of my mind. Guiding me to live more intuitively and in rhythm with Mother Nature.

When we choose the path of healing, or perhaps it chooses us, we realize that it cannot be rushed. Layer upon layer, we peel back our past, our wounds, and perhaps even our trauma.

Just as the birds are in relationship with the trees, the moon is in relationship with the stars, and the fish are in relationship with the sea, our minds and bodies are in relationship, influencing each other. This two-way relationship is vital to recovery. When disconnected we suffer; when working in harmony, we are free.

Reconciling this relationship is not an easy task and takes a tremendous amount of awareness and acceptance, which are gateways to healing. With practice, patience, and the proper tools, restoration is possible.

I have seen and experienced the miracle of healing and how it extends outwards to those we love when we bravely face what is at hand.

How are you navigating the unique seasons in your life? What does this season bring up for you? Is there something that needs to be felt? Maybe something that needs to be processed? Perhaps, something that wants to heal? I invite you to sit with these questions and do a very simple practice that helps me draw my attention inward when I am feeling disconnected.

Ground yourself in whatever space you are in. Start by taking 3 mindful breaths, allowing your entire body to get still. Close your eyes gently, and relax all the muscles in your face. Breathe slowly and mindfully. Stay. Listen. Reflect.

One of the tools Brinn utilizes to heal is writing. She recently started her own blog so that she could share her story, specifically through poetry. I’d like to share a beautiful poem she wrote this winter called Seasons of Love. I hope her words touch your heart as they do mine.

*To read more of Brinn’s poetry, or to discover more about her journey, visit: https://myinnervoice.squarespace.com/

• Be intentional around food and mealtime.
  • Cook and eat together: I plan and prepare 3-5 meals per week in which we are all together. I keep meals simple. Brinn often helps me prepare meals, which has been an important part of her recovery. It’s also great time for us to connect. Find what works for you.
  • Give thanks. Express gratitude aloud or silently for that which nourishes you. If you pray before a meal, be mindful of the language you use rather than repeating a script.
  • Open your senses. Smell and savor each bite slowly. Visualize where it comes from. Take pleasure in the experience of eating. Do away with diet fads and learn the skill of listening to your body. This strengthens the mind-body relationship and cultivates intuition. I find that my needs vary at different points in my cycle and in various seasons.
  • Invite conversation. Creating healthy boundaries around mealtimes can be challenging, especially if you are raising teenagers! While it doesn’t always happen, I invite my kids to put away their phones so that we can have genuine conversation.
• Integrate mindfulness into movement.
  • Infuse meditation. I often hear people say that it is difficult for them to sit still in meditation or that they don’t have time. You don’t have to sit still to meditate. Meditation does not need to separate from our practices; it can be part of them. Infuse your day to day living with moments of meditation.
  • Tune in, not out. How often do we get distracted or zone out when we exercise? Have you ever tried meditation while walking or lifting weights, focusing your attention on specific muscle groups, synchronizing breath with movement? This helps me be more aware of sensations in my body as well as more conscious of my breath. It changes the whole experience.
  • Slow down. Turns out that slow, deliberate movement is so good for us. Our bodies will thank us for this gift!
• Prioritize micro moments of rest throughout your day.
  • Create grounding rituals. One of my favorite morning rituals is listening to birdsongs outside my bedroom window, providing organic background music for my morning meditation practice. Mindful reading is another favorite; I believe that good writing stems from intentional reading. When I read, I try to be thoughtful, taking time to pause and reflect, and then apply what I have learned. A couple other favorite new rituals that I am exploring are dream journaling, and listening to soft nature music throughout the day when I am cooking, writing, reading, paying bills or just relaxing.
  • Find one yoga pose. Settle into stillness for 3-5 minutes, focusing on your breath. One of my favorite yoga snacks to do at night before I settle in for sleep is corpse. Winter represents death, and our yoga practice is enhanced when it reflects nature itself. Some practitioners skip this pose; however, the practice is said not to be complete until rest is taken. This pose is intended to relax the body and calm the nervous system, allowing to find a sense of peace and quietude. I feel rested and open when I close my yoga practice (or my day) by spending a few minutes in this shape.

What are some of the techniques you use to help you navigate this particular season of your life?

*Resources: The Creative Act: A Way of Being