Winter was “unexpectedly productive.”
I spent most of my time indoors, either by myself or camped out on the couch with the hubs. We spent days powering through Netflix and cooking crazy delicious meals.
We winter hiked, we travelled to Costa Rica for New Years, we didn’t do a single one of the projects listed on our house DIY list, but we did talk about them an awful lot.
I did yoga. everyday? It’s probably not everyday but it’s close to that and that’s an honest estimation.
I snuggled, I ate, I walked (when it wasn’t freezing), I stretched.
I started to let go.
That was the “unexpectedly productive.”
That was the work.
That felt really freaking good.
Now that it’s Spring, I’m anxious for warmth.
I’m not just sick of being cold and having to pack my wool socks wherever I go.
More than anything, I’m ready for deep, golden contrasted light. I’m ready to use it and try the thing that’s been brewing in my head for so long.
I’m ready to exhale all that inner work, just to bring it right back in again.
I get it now. It’s fuel, not fire.