One by one, the women in my spirit-connected tribe all started reading this book and began sending lovely pictures with their warm sweaters, hot tea, and blankets. I got pulled into Wintering and am so grateful.
I usually read a book and take notes to share with others, but this book would not allow such academic pursuit. Audio doesn't work either. This book calls to be savored with a pen so that you can write in the margins, underline favorite lines and text your friends.
I read this book in the middle of a very long Michigan winter. I wish I had started reading this to align with the author's monthly chapters. So, please begin in September and see what this brings to you.
My copy has too many dogeared corners to share all of my favorites with you, but "September" gave me "We like to imagine that it's possible for life to be one eternal summer and that we have uniquely failed to achieve that for ourselves." Oomph. I feel that.
This book is about the author's personal story of loss and transformation and the need to winter. Her words and beautiful natural imagery opened up a new perspective for me and resonated with my grief coach's heart. By "March," I could celebrate her sharing that
"Sometimes the best response to our howls of anguish is the honest one. We need friends who wince along with our pain, who tolerate our gloom, and who allow us to be weak for a while when we're finding our feet again."
I encourage you to winter this season (yes, as a verb) and enjoy this book with your favorite warm beverage and snuggy.
You can find this book at my favorite bookseller with the link above, or reach out to Gilbert and Ivy directly for a personal touch and extra help.