Winter Hibernation

It has been a season of retreat in my heart and mind of late. It always seems to be this way right around this time of year: like clockwork proffering a tick I can't resist, I feel called to withdraw a bit. From pace. From people. From blog (obviously). From the busy and the full in favor of the quiet and the less.

Maybe it's brought on by the departure of summer and the impending arrival of fall: after all, the endless barbeque's, road trips, house parties, sleepovers, campout's, beers and burgers must end sometime. When they do, I find myself asking...Detox anyone?

Without a doubt, we spend a never-to-be-disclosed-publicly (for shame!) log of hours cleansing our body of chemical toxins and water weight; purging our houses of clutter; ridding our inbox of junk; and freeing our schedules of meetings and to-do's. But it's a discipline lit by the spark of choice that challenges us to reconsider and redecorate the rooms of our relationships.

So much of life is burgeoning with folk. We have jobs and bosses and landlords and neighbors and students and teachers and traffic all around. There is, without a doubt, no way we can exist outside of people and still operate within the world. Withdrawing now and again doesn't strike me as without profit, then. Like a good re-do, we need the fresh paint of prioritization and the new fixtures of life and laughter. We need to ask ourselves, "Where am I going? What am I doing? What matters most...and who do I want to journey with to get there?" Or, as the psalmist reminds, I must remind myself just what prize holds the focus of my eye: "You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever." (Ps. 16:11, NAS)

Such answers get me back on track with a new vitality. A refreshed joy.  They leave me re-centered, redecorated, and ready to re-embrace the busy and full.

Just in time for winter hibernation.