Hi! I’m Liz and I write seasonal letters for those of us who long to live a slow life in rhythm with nature. Thanks for stopping by! All posts are always free. Subscribe + join the Wild Soul Collective. I would love to have you here. ❍↟☽
Hello, dear you.
You’re not going to believe this. If you have been reading throughout December, then you know that from my 44 card oracle deck I have drawn quite a few repeating cards throughout the month. And, well, it’s happened again. Today’s card (that I pulled after my whole shuffling 3 times, cutting the deck into 3 piles, and then cutting the deck in half and taking the top card from the middle of the deck ritual) is the exact same card from the previous letter I wrote to you. The sweat lodge. How is this even possible?!
Since this is my next-to-last letter to you in this Deep December series, I decided that today’s and Saturday’s letters would have a special focus. Today, will be a message of farewell for 2023. This letter to you will become my ritual for closing the door on this year. Saturday’s letter will be a message for opening to door to 2024. In other words, today is all about looking back over the year; and Saturday will be all about looking forward.
But, the Sweat Lodge card. Again. What could that possibly mean? I’ve already shared my thoughts on how these middle days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve are my own kind of personal retreat for receiving messages and unearthing a vision for my way forward. What, then, does this card mean for me today?
As soon as the shock of unbelief wore off, I realized that this card is perhaps the perfect way to wrap up a year of deep loss. All of 2023 has been my own personal sweat lodge.
Throughout the year, I found myself going inward in order to understand the deep messages that I was to receive as I suffered through the heat, the sweat, and the uncomfortableness of it all. I was experiencing the purifying, cleansing heat of one loss after another, and it was rough. But, through it all, I knew that there were lessons to be learned and wisdom to be gained. I just had to sit still and remain steadfast. I just had to trust in the process and that the rhythms of life continued on, even through loss and death. I just had to keep my eye on the earth and the sky, and remind myself to flow with it all.
Twenty twenty-three began with a positive pregnancy test for my wife and I - and it felt so very hopeful - after years of grieving the loss of a child and the extreme ups and downs of trying again. But, sadly, before January was over, we suffered a miscarriage and were devastated. Not a super great way to begin a new year.
In February, we remembered the second anniversary of the loss of our baby and I received news that one of my soulmates in my life passed away. I didn’t even know he was sick. And my world suddenly had another very empty space in it.
The year continued on and my wife and I decided to go ahead with our one last insemination in the hopes of having a baby. Nevertheless, it did not result in a pregnancy and suddenly we were done with this whole process. Now, we needed to find a new way forward, for we had already decided that we could not continue trying, for our mental health, financial health, and in order to not let life pass by. We had also discussed all other options and decided that creating a life that we wanted to live (even without a child of our own) would now be our priority. It was so hard, but also felt so very right.
The same weekend in May that we found out we were not pregnant, we headed to Stockholm for a weekend to reset and care for our raw emotions. While there, we found out my dad had been put in this hospital and things did not look good. So, we booked tickets to the States and hopped a flight to be with my family.
My dad went downhill fairly fast, though at the time it felt painfully slow, and passed away in the beginning of October. From May until October, life was a crazy mix of everything. I traveled to the States three times, I tried to deal with two grieving, difficult processes at the same time, all while continuing to work and hold my everyday life together.
November and December have been dark, melancholic, cozy, nostalgic, sad, and beautiful all at the same time. I have begun processing living in a world without my sweet dad’s physical being. My love and I have begun the slow process of healing and looking forward and celebrating that we get to go through this life together.
And, now, I feel that I am ready to leave my personal sweat lodge in a few days, and step out into a much different world than I had in January 2023.
This has been a year of deep loss. But, in all that I have lost, I feel that I have also been going through a cleansing, purifying process that allows me to see things and understand things differently now. I am creating a new vision for my life. A new era is beginning. And the rhythms of life, of which I am a part, continue on.
So, with that, I am now ready to wrap up this year. I am ready to say farewell and close the door to 2023. I do not close the door in order to forget. Instead, I close the door, knowing that I have felt so much so deeply this year; and I carry the memories, the grief, and the lessons with me. They have all been alchemized and have changed who I am.
This is the magic of the middle days. It is the space where I can let the past and the future meet in the present. And I can simply float in the liminal, mystical energy of one year passing and another one waiting. For the next 3 days, I’ll just be here in these days of nothingness. Letting time move as slowly as it will. Feeling the silence, the mystery, the emptiness, the possibility.
Farewell, twenty twenty-three. You were tough. And, yet, because of your heat and pain, I have fallen even more deeply in sync with the rhythms of this magical, wonderful, messy, beautiful life.
xoxo. liz.
How was your 2023, my friend? What have you experienced or felt or learned? Are you ready to move on?
One quick, final note of gratitude - for you. Thank you for being here. For joining me as we cycle through the seasons of life together. Your presence is felt - in words and in spirit. I am so humbled that I get to write to you and that you receive and hold my words and images in your own heart. My friend, thank you for being you.
Your series has been so very beautiful and nourishing this month. Thank you for the honest words and images that inspire a quietness--winter's peaceful hush is just what I'm needing right now. 2023 has used up my reserves in a way that has me embracing simplicity and silence in new ways. I'm looking forward to 2024 and a more devoted and analog way of living that lifts my weary heart. I'm so sorry for all the heartbreak you and your wife have endured. Your hopefulness is a light to others.
I so much enjoy your letters. You definitely have gone through some hard losses. 2023 for me has been full of inner peace. For the first time ever in my soul I have no struggle or anxiety. Right now my faith is the strongest it has ever been and for the first time ever, I can say I am truly happy. I have spent many days in reflection and meditation. I am excited for 2024 to begin. First big trip is to Paris France to be with Catherine and Simon!!