Welcoming Winter

An invitation into the burrow of your heart.

Welcome to The Wild Mother Substack. A place where the wild feminine and the home-maker meet. Here you’ll find an array of writings on motherhood, cyclical living, home-making, and how to stay wild even as a domesticated house-wife.

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I want to preface this newsletter by saying I am trialling something a little different today.

For a while now I have been contemplating how I can add more value to your experience as the reader. I’ve been reflecting on the accounts I receive the most from, and wondering what I can offer that feels authentic to me.

Something that has come up a few times is helping the reader to explore the seasonal shifts around us, through sharing story, experience and perhaps some journalling prompts.

I’m going to give this a whirl and I would really, really love your feedback. So pop a note in the comment section or send me a message back saying how this lands for you. Thank you.

It feels like we have fully landed in winter here in the UK.

After a beautiful, long, warm and enchanting autumn we have now arrived at the mystical, magical and transformative winter.

I don’t know about you but the stillness of this time of year makes me feel like I’m so close to stepping through the veil. I often feel like I’ve taken a microdose when I’m walking alone in nature at this time of year.

Have you ever felt that?

I took myself, my 18 month daughter and my beloved wolf pup out to the local parklands the other day and found myself totally transported to another dimension.

The birdsong was so crisp, the air was so still, it was like something out of a trip.

It got me reflecting on the stillness and the not-so-stillness of this time of year.

Whilst outwardly the world seems to have come to a stop - the flowers are not blooming, the leaves are falling, many trees are bare, what is actually happening inside is the deepest transformation.

Deep in the burrows of the earth the seeds and bulbs that were planted in autumn are slowly growing their roots, taking a long and slow time to germinate ready for spring.

Whilst we are nearing the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, that also means we are getting ready to welcome the return of the light, as the days slowly become longer again.

I always find it beautifully paradoxical that in winter we celebrate the return of the light, and that at the summer solstice we recognise and honour the dark.

Which leads me onto what I would like to offer you in this newsletter -

Some prompts for you to muse upon. Perhaps you might like to carve out some time as you hunker down for winter. You might like to get cosy with a cup of tea and a blanket. Or you might like to go on a winter walk and allow the landscape to move you. These are merely the beginnings of a process that you can get lost in over these winter days.

Prompts -

1. When you come into stillness, what is it that you find there?

2. What is happening deep in the burrows of your heart?

3. What parts of you are silently germinating on the inside?

4. In this time of darkness, how can you honour your inner light?

Sending deep love to you through these winter days.

The Wild Mother