Wintering

Someone asked me the other day what I valued. It was in the context of an executive coaching session. The coach was helping me find motivation to continue leading during what has been a very tough year as a social impact CEO.  I paused and reflected on the question before answering: I value aesthetic.  I value virtuosity.  I value the rigorous habit of a daily creative practice. I value ritual.  

That is why I love this holiday photo taken the day I put up the Christmas decorations this year. There is the aesthetic: an ensemble of objects, large and small, that together make up the picture-perfect image of a living room dressed for the holidays. There is the virtuosity of the painting, both the wall hanging and the wall it hangs on, which was painted green by Tim, when the wall hanging was brought home from the frame shop oh so many Autumns ago.  There is the hint of a daily creative practice with the books placed carefully for reading, which I do nightly, sitting in this corner of the sofa, with the Twins snuggled close, watching a Pinterest video to learn Minecraft tips and be dazzled by TD Bricks next original Lego creation.  There is the ritual of Christmas stockings and lights and ribbons and bows that adorn the space.

This is the image that inspires one of my favorite rituals; sitting down to write our yearly holiday epistle, sharing with you all the beauty, rigor, practice and ritual that filled our days this past year, so that I can begin a kind of wintering, a reflective time to prepare for the new.  As Katherine May writes in her book on the same topic, "Here is another truth about wintering: you'll find wisdom in your winter, and once it's over, it's your responsibility to pass it on."  In this way, this season, that begins with a Solstice starts a wintering of the soul that doesn't end magically on January 1 with the start of the new year, but rather, the winter months themselves are the opportunity to sluff off the old, in quiet reflection, during the darkest time of the year, even as the light returns little by little, each day.

In fact, in reflecting on the title of May's book, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, I would say that 2025 was a whole year of wintering; there was a lot that challenged me personally and professionally this year.  So that as I sit to write this letter I want to be truthful about that darkness even as I reach for the light, returning in small increments, three minutes each day, as we slip into the new year.

The year 2025 began like all Pacific Northwest winters do, with cold and a dusting of snow. We were homebound for the holiday.  Tim got sick, then the Twins got sick; I kept upright, but only because I refused to declare myself sick, as well.  January started with organizational challenges at work that really pushed me to want to be a more impactful leader.  That journey to be more impactful continues even as I am seeing the impact of the work in the good news of community partnerships and positive youth outcomes.  

At home, the family held up their end of the commitment to care for one another. The Twins and I skied. Tim finished remodeling the laundry room, and sometime during the year we welcomed another puppy to join Chester as the second family dog.  I know . I know.  Two dogs under the age of three. Why not? We did it with babies.

We watched movies.  One of our favorite Family rituals begins with Tim popping corn the old fashioned way, over the stove, lightly salted.  We each pour our favorite flavored sparkling water into cups and sit before the big screen to enjoy a movie. Like many households, KPOP Demon Hunters was a favorite, though the Twins tried to stay "cool" about all the singing, while they secretly enjoyed the story.  

We avoided cameras. In fact, this year could have been called the year of little photographic documentation. What began as #madkentadventure pictures and videos, documenting every moment of their wild and precious lives, became a mom, please no pictures  and hands up like I was some sort of Mamarazzi trying to steal their privacy.  Another thing, in fact, to note about the cover image: there are no people, there are no matching pajamas.

Even without my photos or documentation, from time to time one of them would say (usually Madison), take a video of me doing this.  And then moments later, how many likes did it get?  The good news is that I still have the pen on these requested posts, so I can limit it's addictive admiration-seeking power.  

Computers made an entrance into our home with each Twin saving to buy their own gaming laptop. There was the research on gigabytes and SSD (I don't even know what that means) and setting them up and letting them go. There was the constant battle over screen time.   Try limiting a nine year to one hour a day of personal screen time.  Like my quest to be a more impactful leader, this journey also continues for Tim and I with Twin sons who love their screen time more than human interaction, reading and playing outside.

We had our traditional summer time at Caldera.  The Twins and I practically lived at the Creekside Cabin during the summer, spending three to four days each session between July and August.  This summer Tim enjoyed quiet time at home, while we were away, staying there to commute to his new position at Highland Ridge Custom Home Remodeling which requires him to go to the office five days a week. This year he welcomed back a regular commute and daily in person interactions with grown ups.   

This also meant we spent the summer close to home, driving only as far away as The Dunes for a Fourth of July camping trip which has become something of a tradition in and of itself.  Tim and Kenton also took a fishing trip to the Mackenzie River Valley in August, while Madison and I enjoyed an in-town staycation, heading to a Thorns game and taking advantage of all the Providence Park cuisine for our evening meal.  

This year, the Twins turned double digits, with two birthday celebrations - one for each digit.  One at Caldera's 2025 Hearth Festival which landed right on the actual day of their birth.   They were asked to invite one friend to stay with us in an A-Frame and enjoy the annual celebration of creativity in Caldera's little corner of Jefferson County, Oregon.  We dined at a local restaurant, The Open Door; also their choice.  It was so cute to see their friends and them dressed up and sitting at the 'fancy' table showing off their double-digit table manners. The next day found them running wild on the land going from craft services for their adolescent carb loading to Luckey's Woodsman protein-packed boxed lunches, the featured food at Hearth Festival this year. The second birthday celebration was themed . . . you guessed it, Game On, which happened the weekend after their actual day of birth, with 10 friends and a healthy split between screen game time and gym game time. 

By November, as you may imagine, I was tired. I can't speak for Tim, but I'm sure he would chime in here and say that we are two tired parents trying to live up to this gentle parenting paradigm and falling short by mere nature of the fact that we are human and Twins are twice as much of everything (and we don't believe in gentle parenting . . . at all.)

Still, we all find time to laugh and care and experience the daily beauty, rigor, practice and ritual of our lives.

As the wintering begins, I say to you all, let the darkness be. Sit with it. Be in it. Challenge yourself to care for yourself during this winter season: rest, nourish, and connect to self, to family, to community. Remember the light is coming back, little by little and by spring you'll be ready to look up at the cumulous clouds, on a blue sky day, with all the wisdom you've brought to bear during the winter months.