The season of soft things
It is the season of soft things. Warm tea. Thick blankets. Crackling fires. Cozy sweaters. Candle light. Woollen socks. Hugs. Laughter. Kindness. Whispers. Dreams. The world seems especially hard right now, with sharp edges that cut and harm. I find myself craving comfort, ease, and quiet. Seeking out people who exude warmth, welcome, and joy.
Our world, especially our working world, often demands structure and immutable processes. Too often telling us what is and has been must continue to be. This relentless beat can make me tired and worn. It’s in these moments that I remind myself the value of flexibility, the ability to bend so we don’t break.
We so often prize efficiency and abhor redundancy, until we recognize that nature in all her glorious wisdom has survived and thrived for nearly 4 billion years because of her integrated systems that are stronger than the sum of the parts, with pieces that back up one another so that as a united whole they can weather the storms, accommodate change, and retain balance, even and especially in crisis. And there are always storms, and change, and crises.
Nature built herself to flex, to make room, to expect the unexpected, to support. What if that became our goal, for ourselves, our organizations, our government, our world? How then might be change, grow, evolve, and be? I suspect that in this season of soft things, I may find answers to those questions by the time the light of spring returns.