sleepy sunbeams

the winter reverie

⋆꙳•*°⋆❆ the winter reverie ❆⋆°*•꙳⋆

reverie

noun

1. a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts

2. a daydream

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Welcome to the winter reverie. The first of what I hope will become a new series here at a soft daydream. A seasonal recap of my memories, experiences and favourites. Let’s begin with a poem for winter…

This poem is an ode to the Australian winter told through the phases of dusk and dawn. It feels like a poetic photograph, a memory captured in poetry. At the time of publishing, the recording of my recitation was not working, so many of my readers have not heard this poem read aloud. The issue is now resolved so if you would like to read/listen to this poem, please click above and then return to this winter recap.

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sleepy sunbeams make the grass sparkle, please don’t melt

Winter brought an overwhelming amount of love and grief into my life. At the beginning of June, my father passed away. I learnt that love and grief can’t exist separately. Life can be beautiful, but also incredibly painful, at the exact same time.

When you love someone, there is always a fear of loss and when it happens, it’s devastating. The immensity you feel when you swim in grief, is directly correlated to just how much love you shared with them. While it aches to listen to their favourite music, reminiscence about memories and immerse yourself in their passions, what an miracle it is to feel and to have loved.

We hold so many heart stories in our bodies, and when the sparkling grass melts and the seasons change, all that we have ever loved continues to breathe in our heart.

The time I spent with my family, grieving and celebrating my dad’s life connected me to poetry deeper than ever before. Poetic moments are around us everyday, we just have to look for them.

Nothing slows down time as much as death, and when life moves heavy and thick, you notice just how precious and fleeting it is.

This heart melting poem by my dearest friend

nadia g

captures the small moments of love that are around us everyday, through the memories of the senses.

senses of love

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the sky tastes like peaches tonight

I’ve always seen winter as the time when all the colourful flowers and fruits of spring/summer float up to the sky for the most vibrant sunrises and sunsets.

This winter certainly didn’t disappoint. Whether it was beside a river like the Goulburn or the Murumbidgee, atop Mount Banks in the Blue Mountains or even just driving home from work in the evening, I witnessed some of the most gorgeous winter sun shows, the most beautiful dusks and dawns.

It was through the sky, that I re-connected with beauty amongst the overwhelming grief. How can you ever look up at the magic above us, and not be left in awe? How can you not have your breath taken from your lungs and watch it float into the mystical ether?

It’s always a sunrise or sunset that gets me running out onto the cold and slippery, rain soaked grass with thongs on in the early morning, or hiking up a mountain even though I have a stomach ache and the wind is so strong that I have to hide behind a boulder for shelter.

I go, because it’s a sacred time, and watching the sky perform its rainbow dance is a gift available to us everyday.

One of my favourite substack publications is by the incredibly talented

Vashti Venari

and this piece on beauty as an agent of the divine really spoke to my heart.

MUSE ME // Beauty is an Agent of the Divine

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the kingfisher flame
adorns the sun on your fingertips

I could sit and tend to a fire for hours, and that’s what I did whenever I had a chance this winter. The warmth of a campfire is so much more satisfying than artificial indoor heaters. Especially when you search for rocks (only taking the ones without any bugs living under them) and build the fire pit yourself in the middle of the isolated bush.

Fires make sitting outside in the cold air so enjoyable and make me feel connected to my ancestors.

In yoga there is a practice called trataka, where you gaze at a candle flame for purification and cleansing. I think there is something to gazing at fire too, which in many indigenous and traditional cultures is symbolic of the wise, grandfather spirit. Sometimes we take fire for granted and forget just how magical and mesmerising it is.

This winter will always remind me of sitting in the Australian bush with people I love, in presence and connection to the natural world. Watching kangaroos hop by down in the gully and listening to kookaburras laugh as they fly from tree to tree.

One thing I know for certain, is that every time I sat by a fire this winter, my dad was watching over me.

Someone that I have connected with through substack this winter is the joyful, philosophical and kind

Forrest Beway

who definitely has the warmth and wisdom of a grand flame. This piece he wrote, was the first post on substack that ever made me cry.

The moon, the pond and the burning monk

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venus waters sweeping over curves
in a scattering sunlight caress

Winter is such a beautiful time to soak and delight in warm waters. I had some hot and relaxing Moon Day baths where I would listen to sacred chants or siren songs and read poetry.

Baths remind me of the presence I felt when I was a child. I love to stop and notice the iridescence of bubbles or slow down enough to allow poetry held in my subconscious to float to the surface.

I also had the most beautiful Venus Day shower in this bathroom pictured above that had a glass roof so you can see the sky, the sun and the gum trees.

It was also the first time I had ever used an onsen bucket and wow! They are such a luxurious addition, I’m intending to invest in one for my own shower.

I also had the opportunity to visit a hot spring, and relax in the mineral waters. It felt so replenishing and soothing. To me, water feels like home.

If you’d like to read more about venusian bathing, this piece by my stunning friend

Oorja M

is wonderful.

Venusian Friday baths without a bathtub

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your warm symphony

A few songs that I have been loving this winter.

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You don’t need much to celebrate the seasons. A sunset, a warm bath, a fire and some poetry perhaps.

A life is lived in the simple, subtle moments and if this winter has taught me anything, it’s to live it, with love overflowing like a full moon and a heart that doesn’t hold back.

As much as change and loss can cause our heart to ache, the frost disappearing means you’ve been touched by the sun, and what a joy it is to melt into another season of love.

Please let me know if you enjoyed this format and if you would like to see this every season!