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Nature's rhythm

Dear reader of these words


Is it too late to wish you a happy new year? A sixth of this year is already almost over and I don't know how you feel about it, but I truly hope that you started well.

Maybe you noticed that I didn't publish anything on here for quite some time. But more likely you weren't aware of it, because let's be honest, a lot is happening in your life and this blog isn't the centre of it. =)

Nonetheless I would like to tell you the story of my absence as I think you might relate to it. At least that's what I hope whenever I share something personal, because I'm convinced that we are all connected and often are going through similar things.



My year started with a plan. I wanted to carry on sowing seeds for my dream life, metaphorically, but also literally speaking. I wanted to see my plants grow and I wanted to harvest the fruit of my hard labor. In my diary I wrote on New Year's Eve: My word for 2022 is GARDEN. The word "garden" was written in big and special letters on an empty page, decorated with ornaments and coloured in. It felt huge and important and I was proud of myself for choosing such a beautiful and meaningful word for my year.

And so I started January with a bounce in my step. It promised to be an exciting month as I planned on leading my first ever retreat in the village together with a friend and people seemed to be interested and enrolled in our program. But soon enough I found myself brooding over an empty calendar, because we had to postpone our project due to the current global situation.

It's ok, I thought and followed my first impulse to fill the gained time with something else. I wrote a list with ideas for new projects that I could take on this month. All of them were things I knew I would love to do and that would let my heart and my creativity beat louder. Or at least that's what I thought. Because now I was sat in front of a very long list and nothing spoke to me. I didn't feel inspired and I also didn't feel motivated to start something new.


The trees looked at me quietly.

And so I went to the forest like I always do when I seek answers. On my walks and wanderings I oftentimes encounter the responses I need. I talk to the forest and its trees and not infrequently I return with an aired out mind and the clarity of knowing what to do next.

There is this piece of forest where I feel especially connected and soon after I was trudging through its snow. Rather unconsciously and rather frustrated I asked the woods: "What for heaven's sake is supposed to be created through me in this moment?"

The trees, wrapped in a thick layer of snow, looked at me quietly.

Nothing, they said, nothing. Now is not the time for you to create.


It stopped me in my tracks and I laughed loudly, the answer was so clear! Yes, of course! It's winter and it's the season of quietness and reflection. For being still and for dreaming. And it's the time of emptiness and to rest in order to start anew in spring, filled with strength and power.

And I remembered my splendid word for 2022. Garden. I had been seeing myself sowing seeds in spring, observing my plant's growth in summer and harvesting the fruit in autumn. But what I hadn't considered, was that the soil and therefor the garden is resting in winter.


When I left my job and the city over one year ago, I dreamed of a life that respected the natural cycles and that was connected to the rhythms of nature, the rhythms that I had been feeling in my own life for a long time already. And now I was granted this wonderful lesson in the beginning of this year: I am not only allowed to rest, I have an obligation to do so, so that my soil becomes fertile again. How astonishing, almost magical, everything came together...


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