Wintering pt. 1
After announcing that I was stepping away from my leadership position, I’ve had so many conversations about leaving a hard fought for role without something else lined up. And honestly, I don’t have what seems like a “good” answer. What I DO know, is that I have entered a “wintering” period. In her book titled the same, Katherine May says, wintering is a way to get through tough times by chilling, hibernating, healing, re-grouping. "Doing these deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting — is a radical act now, but it is essential," she writes. The power of rest and retreat. Even for this Southern girl, I am leaning into the consolation of nature and slowing down to better prepare for what’s next.
Dealing with some health issues, stress, and other things in and out of my control, I am reminded that no one is going to take care of you like you will. So I quit a job that was not serving me and love that I am transitioning alongside a seasonal cycle. Winter is a time where animals and plants have temporarily paused outward/visible growth but there is a deep process of renewal happening under the surface. I like to think that I too can practice reserving my energy to fuel the next season of growth. But resting doesn’t always have to be connected to output. Sometimes rest is just rest. And I am not ashamed to admit that I am committed to resting, and have found myself a bit in procrastination mode. I loved reading a recent Rachel Botsman rethink newsletter where she wrestled with the idea of procrastination: “is it really about time management or emotional management?” Research shows that procrastination is all about managing (or mismanaging) feelings: “Procrastination has a great deal to do with short-term mood repair and emotional regulation […] over the longer-term pursuit of intended actions.” – Timothy Pychyl
We’re often told that the key to thriving is setting ambitious goals and chasing after the best version of ourselves. And while growth is a beautiful pursuit, there’s an equally important, often overlooked aspect of the journey: the art of unbecoming. As psychologist Susan David explains, unbecoming is about stepping outside the rigid plans we create for our future. It’s an invitation to release the pressure of “becoming” and, instead, sit with who we are right now—imperfections, uncertainties, and all. This definitely feels counterintuitive in a world that celebrates progress at every turn. But I am learning that rest and even procrastination aren’t signs of failure; they’re opportunities for recalibration. I am hoping that this time allows me to shed layers that no longer serve me, make peace with detours, and embrace the reality that transformation is rarely linear. Unbecoming isn’t the absence of growth—it’s the clearing of the path for something more authentic to emerge and orient toward a version of me that does not currently exist. I love this poem by T.S. Eliot that Susan talks about because it reminds us to sit with unbecoming:
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Shaping the next chapter of my life and career deserves all of the time, care, and attention I can give it. This existential career rumination is not without its uncertainty and fear, but I am determined to lean into the discomfort, face ambiguity, and weaken the grip that progress and achievement has had on me. Finding clarity is an iterative, sometimes messy process as Voltaire famously noted, “Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.” I am learning that “success” is personal and multifaceted fulfillment comes from different sources of impact and joy. So I am stepping away from the expensive “theater of busyness” to think through what I want most personally and professionally on my own terms (while of course worrying about what the next four years will bring.) So I am bundling up and doing my own form of hibernation, to clear a path for something more authentic to emerge. Stay tuned!
