A Winter’s Rest

In Chinese Five Element medicine the season of Winter healing is represented by the element of water and the emotion of fear. As the cold wind from winter blows, the earth lies quietly resting beneath a thick, protective blanket of snow. On the surface, it appears that, aside from the weather, little is happening in nature. Trees and plants stand dark and bare, their skeletons reflected in the wintry skies. Sap, the life blood of the trees has been drawn back down into its roots. This withdrawal of life force is an act of self protection, for to carry a full load of sap in the winter would cause them to split from the extreme cold and to eventually die as a result of frost damage.

We forget that everything on this planet has it’s season of rest. Every business project, every relationship, every physical body, every life cycle, every activity must rest.

Melody, A Scout, Soul of the Seasons

            As humans we are the only creatures that have a problem with rest. We know that we need sleep, down time, naps, days off and vacations. But, except for our much required nightly sleep, we often ignore the greater need for rest, postponing this precious needed time for rejuvenation until we’ve exhausted ourselves. “Productivity” and “manifestation” are highly regarded and much sought after in our culture. It’s where we’ve been taught to draw our worth. We criticize people who nap, daydream or take extended vacations. We call ourselves “slackers” when we engage in these activities. Resting is unfamiliar to us and often the only permissible season of rest we give ourselves is when we are too sick to get out of bed.

            We fear we will miss out on something if we rest; fun, a new relationship, happiness, a promotion, winning, the secret to life. So, we keep running, running, running, holding our feet tot he fire, endlessly cycling between productivity (Summer Fire) and manifestation (Earth/Harvest). No wonder we get burned out. Occasionally, life tosses a huge monkey wrench into our frenetic lives and we are forced into a season of rest; we get a divorce, a loved one dies, a natural disaster hits, our partner changes their mind, we lose a job or a home or a car or all three and we enter this externally enforced season of rest wholly unprepared.  We scramble to find the new job or house or lover. We feel robbed of our joy (Summer Fire) and value (Fall/Respect). We rage and scream or withdraw and become depressed — or we cycle endlessly between them all, scrambling to find our escape.

            As a culture, and as individuals, we derive much of our worth and esteem from productivity and manifestation. When we lose the job, the girl, the guy, the house. When all our external props are removed, we question our worth. We ask, “Who am I when I’m not doing something?” Shame and guilt wash over us in a suffocating wave; we fear we are nothing.

            As the cold and blustery winter weather surrounds us now, we can observe the connections between the wintry season of rest of the earth and our own need for sustained rest. After the explosive burst of new growth and the creation of a new vision in Spring comes the maturation process of summer. We need the rest we took in our season of Winter to be sustained during stretches of hot summer sun. With the warmth of the summer sun and nurtured by the rains and nutrients of the earth, the fruit has matured and is ready to be picked in the seasons of Harvest. Then comes the season of Fall. Productivity falls away, the days grow shorter, leaves fall from the trees as the sap slowly withdraws down into the earth for storage. The seeds for next years’ crop have fall to the earth, buried beneath a thick layer of leaves and snow.

            If we stop resisting our season of rest we can sense its necessity in our lives. In nature, many seeds require a season of rest and cold; seeds will not sprout, plants will not bloom, trees will not fruit. Or they’ll have a short burst of growth and then fade quickly, lacking the stamina to carry the crop to the harvest. In nature you can also witness this need for rest reflected in fruit bearing trees. If there is a tremendous year of production and harvest in the following year, the tree usually produces little or no fruit at all. The careful gardener knows this and will plan ahead for this season of rest. During summer the attentive gardener will carefully regulate the amount and quality of fruit left on the tree in to eventually mature and harvest. This process called ‘thinning’, actually protects the tree from damage and stress of over-production.

            If we cannot tolerate vulnerability, uncertainty and the mystery we lose our ability to trust in our faith in God. Has your unchecked productivity often referred to as ‘burning the candle at both ends’ resulted in a seemingly enforced season of illness-related rest? Have you succumbed to burnout, the flu, mental and physical exhaustion or worse? How are you responding now to your season of rest? The answers to these questions will provide you with important clues to how you relate to winter’s essential season of rest.

If Grief Were A Creature

by Melody, A Scout

If grief were a creature that sat on my back

That chased me down and made me crack

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it fracture my spirit or bend my knee?

If grief were a creature that stole my heart

That slowed my step and ruined my art

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it shutter my throat and demand I see?

If grief were a creature that scared me stiff

That made me flee when I captured a whiff

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it rattle my bones and shatter my teeth?

If grief were a creature that stole my tongue

That froze my breath and filled up my lungs

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it render me lifeless beneath its cold scree?

If grief as a creature showed up at my door

Devouring my heart and begging for more

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it get to the end and let me be?

If grief were a creature that kept me safe

That cloaked me in black and made me a waif

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Would it bring me glad comfort or answer my plea?

If grief were a creature that fed my soul

That taught me to live and made me whole

What would it say when it caught up to me?

Might it bless me, esteem me, and set me free?

Melody A Scout is an author and Intuitive Spiritual Advisor. Her deep connection to the natural world has influenced her work as a Sacred Landscape Consultant and Plant Spirit Medicine practitioner. She is currently writing a book called Soul of the Seasons which explores the wisdom embedded within the seasonal cycles of the natural world and how to find balance and joy in both our inner and outer landscapes.

What Our Response to COVID-19 Tells Us

There is no such thing as coincidence. I believe that every experience reflects clues to its origin and the answers to any challenges that arise from this experience. With this in mind, it’s interesting to note a few curious elements of the Coronavirus pandemic. Firstly, one of most serious concerns in acquiring COVID-19, is its effect on the lungs and the immune system. Another curious phenomenon is the practice of hoarding, and primarily the things being hoarded, i.e.: toilet paper, disinfectants, and cleaning products.

In Five Element medicine, each season is represented by a fundamental element, a core emotion, and two governing organ systems, along with other qualities and biological systems and organs. Interestingly, the lungs and the colon–the body’s major organs associated with purification and elimination–are the organ systems associated with the season of Fall. It’s also noteworthy that the immune system is one of the bodily systems associated with this season.

Fall is also the season when we learn to fully grieve. The core emotion of grief creates an emotional resonance resulting from the willing or unwilling letting go of something or someone we have deeply valued.

Imbalances in Fall often show up as the inability to let go and a diminished capacity to discern what is of value from that which is no longer needed. As a result, we may end up hanging onto relationships, habits, food, clothes, cars, or paperwork, long after they’re useful or functional. When our ability to let go becomes thwarted, spiritual, emotional, and physical debris back up, creating both internal and external pollution. We soon become covered in the psychic dung of our unprocessed misery, creating toxicity on all levels.

Failing to tend to our losses creates an inability to trust in a future season of abundance. An imbalance during this, the season of deep meaning and value, can cause us to confuse quantity with quality. Though we may have homes or garages or hearts crammed with mementos, we remain unable or unwilling to let go of anything in order to make room for the new. Consequently, we may find ourselves hoarding every scrap and piece of chaff within reach. We might even take on the detritus of others, fearful we might miss out on some small bit of value.

The hoarding of anything is a sure sign of a Fall imbalance, but the run on toilet paper is just too coincidental. It is the single item most used for cleansing after our colon has done its job.

As we journey into the season of Fall we must honestly assess our imbalances and learn ways to artfully bring about balance. All the sanitization practices in the world can’t correct an imbalance in the lungs or colon. In fact, the over use of these products may cause a greater imblance. (Think: the over-prescribing of antibiotics and their part in the creation of super bugs.)

Left unattended, our imbalances in one season will eventually create an imbalance in the adjoining seasons. So, for instance, the inability to let go and grieve properly will lead to an excess of Winter’s core emotion: fear causing anxiety and uncontrolled panic where we rush about doing anything and everything to insure our survival, whether it’s rational or not. While it is important to preserve those things essential to our survival, we need to retain only what will sustain us through the lean months ahead. The excess is destined to become the spiritual, emotional, and physical compost that will feed next year’s crops.

The road through the life season of Fall leads us directly into our connection to God through divine inspiration (the spiritual attribute of the lungs).  Stay healthy. Take reasonable precautions. Keep your fears in check. With healthy and balanced emotional, spiritual, and physical practices, we will gain the strength and resilience to face the challenges life inevitably sends our way.

Blessings and Peace, Melody

The above post contains passages from my recently released book, Soul of the Seasons: Creating Balance, Resilience, & Connection By Tapping the Wisdom of the Natural World. Click Here to order.