solstice + new year
The “end” is quite an interesting concept, because if we believe time is limitless and transient then we can argue that there is truly no beginning or ending to anything in this universe. The cyclical nature of the Earth brings about little, microscopic paradigm shifts, however, and we can argue that one thing will cease to exist so another can be born (or reborn, depending on the circumstances.)
In my little coastal haven, we watch those shifts flow in quietly. Florida winter is quite different from winters in the desert or the mountains. The unexpected chill of the morning as a saline-laden fog covers everyone and everything. The brisk-and-violent cold of the ocean water as it hugs our feet for warmth. The migrations of birds— some familiar, and some less so. The quietness of the evening as the stars grace the heavens earlier and earlier. The plants outside— where some will die off for the winter and some will thrive seemingly effortlessly. And then, of course, those purely human rituals and traditions that we cling to as the seasons change.
Winter is truly a celebration of the elements. In winter we gravitate toward warmth, toward fire especially. We celebrate the frost and the snow with water. We celebrate the fire and the sun that bring us life and warmth. We celebrate the air, for even the refreshing chill of the wind can be a comfort. We celebrate the earth, where life begins and ends. It also allows us to celebrate those beginnings and endings, the space to reflect on the year encountered and the year ahead, and to make big plans.
Winter vibe in our household.
This was the first year we diverted from the midcentury Christmas entirely and went a completely different direction. New life and new traditions were plentiful. We have been focusing more and more on making new traditions as a family, which was a goal this year. There is a subconscious shift toward doing new things in general for us, really.
This week I throw a simmer pot on our stove— a sundry mix of beautiful things like blood oranges, cinnamon bark, cranberries, and rosemary— and ease into the day with my children. I finished instructing classes for the second semester and we have a thankfully long Christmas break at the architecture firm I work for, so it is a quiet time to spend with my children. I wake up very grateful to have this time to recalibrate before the new year. We open the curtains to let the brilliant light in. The solstice has passed now, of course, and we are now seeing more minute changes taking place outside as the winter’s night is beginning to lessen its hold on the world.
I have been roasting our own coffee beans lately, so grinding the beans for a fresh cup in the morning is very intentional. There is a process of creativity in selecting the beans, in flavoring them, and a meditative quality in roasting them. I have grown to like the dull hum of the roaster as it works outside in the sunshine. The air fills with the smell of roasted beans, which reminds me very much of the scent of the roastery that was once in downtown Knoxville (long before living there had been a thought.) After the grinding, we then move to the process of pouring hot water over the beans. I purchased a very simple pour over machine from Spain some years back and it has been my go-to for the perfect coffee. The ground beans bloom as the water enhances them. I then add frothed milk and have a few minutes of stillness before the events of the day take shape. We keep very busy most of the year, so I relish these quiet moments to collect myself. It is a similar process with tea, but something about the cool winter air makes me gravitate toward coffee much more these days. I focus briefly on the journey these beans had from far away. Isn’t it incredible that small things can make such large impacts in our lives and have such long journeys to reach us?
I will be forty in October and there has been a huge shift lately in myself in general. It is amazing to me how the passage of time changes us and how experiences mold and shape us. I feel almost unrecognizable from the person I was merely a year ago. I used to be so anxious, so attached to the past and consumed with bad experiences, and now I have healed in so many ways. There is a basic state I existed at, almost decades ago, and it feels like I have finally arrived back on the trajectory I was supposed to be on emotionally and mentally. It is a very good feeling to feel comfortable in my own skin and to have a healthy relationship with existence, even if it took a while to get there. That isn’t to say that life doesn’t exhibit its challenges or that I still do not have growing to do, but I think just emotionally being in a good place works wonders. I feel fully present and happy. Practicing slow, intentional rituals has helped this tremendously and has been therapeutic. I jokingly refer to it as “divergent living” as a neurodivergent person, but it is a path that does indeed diverge from the hustle and bustle of the world. I’m carving my own path, as I always have, but it feels much more meaningful now than ever.
Professionally, I went through quite a few changes this year as well. I went through a full switch from aerospace to commercial architecture earlier this year, which greatly benefitted my family and home life. I also began instructing students at a university level, which has been challenging but also incredibly rewarding. I also passed one of many of my ARE tests for architectural licensure (and am getting ready to take the next segment of testing again in a few months.) I have debated for years on whether that is the right path for me, but I have a huge amount of faith that I am being propelled toward that direction. It is my goal to have my licensure completed by the end of 2025 and continue on the project management path with emphasis on sustainable practices. I have been mostly self-taught in the professional sphere over the years and have had to learn most of the profession by doing (and hoping I was doing it right, which is terrifying) so finally having proper mentorship has been so beneficial to me and allowed me to grow exponentially. This year I purchased the first “new-ish” car I have ever had, so being able to afford to do so and to have the freedom to travel more easily has been a huge benefit as well.
This year has also brought about many opportunities to make beautiful objects— whether examples for students to work with or handmade gifts for people I care about dearly. A huge focus this year has been on exploring working with different mediums and making cohesive objects. The end of this year has been a culmination of elements, of forms, and seeing how all of the bits and pieces of new skills I acquired this year fit together. There were growing pains, to be sure, but in the end, I am very excited with the results.
Being surrounded by so much beauty has been very inspiring for my work.
Candle-making.
Process/progress.
Current focus.
Near our summer house at Redington Shores, FL, ~1990.
This year marked a return to my childhood. We went back “home” to where my mother grew up and where I spent much formative time as a youth. It was bittersweet— some things changed, and some things stayed the same. It teaches us valuable lessons about the transience of life and impermanence. It also instructs us to value our experiences and to capture everything we can of joy. Something major it taught me was how the concept of “home” can shift. I’m reaching a point in life where I feel we are close to settling down and establishing real roots. I’m not sure where that will lead us, but it felt really good to be around what was familiar. I feel confident where we are now is “home” in essence, but not our final state of what home will be. So, for now, we are enjoying where we are, but know it will have an end date. Something else is inevitably around the corner. I have always been very spiritual and I feel when the right place presents itself we will make that transition, but for now we love our community and where we are. We may be here another year, or we may be somewhere entirely different by next year, and that is okay. We have each other and that is more of a “home” than anything else. The coming year will present opportunities for travel and new experiences as well. I am very excited to see where we go next and what we do.
This year and next will be a continued focus on minimalism, intentional design, and a return to nature. I purchased these chairs on Marketplace (after being inspired by some I saw while in the high desert) and am currently in the process of finishing them. I have loftier plans for personalizing our home, revamping the landscape, and making this not just a house but a lifestyle.
It has been a wild year, but ultimately a good one for us. I am hoping all of you, too, had a year full of transformation, growth, light, and beauty. Wishing you and yours a wonderful holiday season and an incredible new year.