I needed something today. I needed some unnameable holding. So, I gave myself the gift of a few hours healing; I took myself to the forest. It's no wonder the arched ceiling of the cathedral is inspired by the great vaulted canopy of the forest. This is sacred space. Something in me stills in reverence. The smell of the tree breath is an incense, gently guiding me into the hallowed place within.

I have been thinking about writing this post for many months now. I could feel, in my heart, the energy of what I wanted to say but it has taken a while for my head to catch up and provide the words...at least, I hope my head has found the words. We will soon find out!

As much as we'd love it, healing is rarely a magic wand moment, a take up your mat and walk thing. Like the great whirligig of life itself, it's more of a messy, fumbling, blindly groping in the dark sort of thing (not that sort of grope in the dark...or then again, maybe..?!)

So the message has been coming at me for a while now: I need to be a bit more mindful, do a bit of meditation every day, tune in more to what's going on inside. And I know, for sure, it's a great idea. I know it will help me to be healthier in body, mind and spirit. I know it will make me happier. And yet, it's still not happening. Oh sure, some days, some days I meditate, maybe even a couple of times in the day. And it's great; I feel the benefits immediately. I feel blockages soften and shift. I feel energy moving through me. I release those tricky, sticky emotions that have gotten stuck under the cushions of my inner sofa. This is top-class healing. It feels great. And yet....still not happening, not every day anyway.

I did some full-on wintering this year. I never used to do any wintering; when I lived in the town, winter was a time of busyness, of night classes and meetings and social engagements. It hit me hard, that first winter in the wilds of Donegal. Everyone just disappeared indoors and nothing happened for a good three months. After 17years here, I've become a wintering pro. I love that time of turning the gaze inward, slowing down and taking stock. I've come to deeply treasure Winter's quiet and its many gifts.