Come, ye thankful people, come,
raise the song of harvest home;
all is safely gathered in,
ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide
for our wants to be supplied;
come to God's own temple, come,
raise the song of harvest home.
Gather round. The dark has come.
Hello you,
The last supermoon of the year starts her waning phase today and ushers in winter’s darkness. Even if the weather doesn’t quite seem like winter yet where you are, if you are in the northern hemisphere, the darkness has settled in. And it grows darker every single day. At least from now until the winter solstice on December 21st, when the days begin to become lighter again.
I tend to think of the weeks from mid-November until the winter solstice as a very secret and silent time. A time for quiet, cozy stolen moments of solitude by candlelight. A time of dreaming, journaling, reading, and meditating. A time for sipping whiskey late at night or enjoying a warm coffee under blankets.
But, it is also a time for warm and cozy gatherings. For preparing hearty stews, pastas, and soups. For gathering around the table to give thanks and break bread together. For sitting by firelight and telling stories, sharing memories, or creating new dreams together.
Whatever this season is, it is a season for gathering in.
If I look to nature, I see that she has now slowed down significantly. The earth’s work has gone underground now. The roots are silently, secretly providing nourishment and stability all winter long. Above ground, the trees stand bare and naked, vulnerable and exposed. They seem as if they have given up, that it’s all over, and there’s nothing left. But, the work has just shifted. All of the energy is now gathered way down in the earth.
Because this is the time for deep, inner, hidden work.
And, for me, that signals the season of home and hearth.
The bare trees signal that winter is on its way. That the cold, blustery, and (hopefully!) snowy days are near. Gardens have been put to bed. Cows have returned to their warm barns for the winter. And, while I live in the middle of the city, I can still feel connected to the work of the countryside and of my ancestors of the past. Wood has been chopped. The harvest is done, pantries filled, preserves and jams made, berries frozen, meats cured. I can imagine how my ancestors hoped that it would all be enough for the tough winter ahead.
Of course, I face none of these tasks and chores. My modern life is quite easy. I do not have the same worries as my ancestors. And, yet, I still feel the pull to prepare for winter. The rhythms of the seasons remind me that, even though I live in the city, there are still tasks and chores to be done all autumn long. And, that now, it is time to shift into winter mode.
Hopefully all is now safely gathered in. That I am prepared for winter, for the darkness, and for the deep inner work of rest, magic, and ritual.
As I move deeper into November, I feel drawn to the idea of gathering. Gathering people. Gathering my thoughts. Gathering together. Gathering memories and traditions. Gathering round the fire and under blankets, at the table for meals and long chats, snuggled in bed and cozy on the sofa.
For the week ahead, as of right now, I have no plans in my calendar after work. And that opens up the opportunity to drop deep into this hearth and home season. It has been pitch black for hours when I come home after work each day, so I want to approach each evening this week as an new opportunity to gather in. To settle in at home and use this season of darkness for creating moments of coziness, surrounded by the warm glow of candles flickering, homemade food warming my belly, and long nights of either quiet solitude or evenings spent with loved ones.
In other words, I just really want to be present each day and create a warm, inviting, cozy space in which to spend the next few months. Like the winter trees, I want to let my roots sink way deep into the earth too - so that I am nourished and stable through the dark months ahead.
On the rare days that the sun shines, or even if it doesn’t, I want to get outside during lunch to feel the air and soak in the daylight. I want to plan meals that stick to my ribs and warm my soul.
But, mostly, I want to use the darkness for tending to my own roots and for listening to the lessons of the night. I want to be inspired by the darkness, the ever-present and ever-changing moon, the whooos of the owls, the whispers of my ancestors, and my own intuition and wisdom. And I want to share these cold, dark nights with others, telling stories and sharing memories.
Now, my friend, is the time to gather round, gather up, and gather in. I believe that it takes a balance of both solitude and community to get us through the winter. Of gathering our own thoughts, dreams, power, and wishes. But, of also, gathering together and sharing them with each other through traditions, rituals, and cozy moments on these long, dark, November nights.
So, come in from the cold, come home to your soul, and come be with each other.
xoxo. liz.
How and what do you plan to gather this coming week as we shift into winter mode? I’ll see you in the comments. 🫶🏻
Soundtrack of the week
Collaborate with me in this week’s soundtrack. Gather and share cozy tunes that you think are perfect for long, dreamy nights for gathering at home. Really, I’m serious! Add your favorite cozy tunes to the playlist, if you’d like!
The long, dark nights of November are here. The outer work of the year is over and we are drawn inward. It's time to settle in at home, sit by the firelight, share stories, and welcome the coming winter. Cozy up with a playlist that we create together.
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