I can feel myself sinking. Settling in. As the farm work slows to a crawl in November and December, I, too, slow to a crawl. Winter is a tightrope walk. Seasonal rest, recovery, and reflection are important, but taken too far they can lead to an unhealthy moody sedentary life. I have to force myself not to give in to total lazy.
Ironically, winter requires the most discipline. You’d think it would be the height of the season, but then we just never stop. It’s easy to put one foot in front of the other and just keep going when the going has got to be done and deadlines loom everywhere. In the winter, though, deadlines are much more liquid.
After going so hard, it’s easy to tell myself I deserve and want restful idle time. And I do. But I have to find that delicate balance up here on the winter tightrope. I’ve got to reach deep to venture out to see friends, move my body, pursue other “side quests” outside the farm. These are what keep me happy and healthy and will deliver me in tact and ready when the farm demands escalate in the spring.
But it’s hard. My November self wants to live in a lazy moment and forget about spring. I can always worry about that tomorrow, next week, next month, ad infinitum. But time is stealthy. Spring will arrive hastily and full of demands as soon as I take my eyes off the calendar.