Slow Down

Winter can be a paradoxical season. On the one hand, snow is truly beautiful and the season beckons for low key activities like baking, sewing and reading. On the other hand, the short days (especially at the latitude where I live) and cold weather put a major damper on my energy levels. I basically consider the season to be “winter” when the time changes, which I know is not scientifically accurate. I am trying to understand where my recent blah feelings of winter stem from: could it be the not-so-distant memories of tough winters at 8,200 feet in our previous home? Or is it the lingering pandemic, where each winter seems to bring a new contagion and worry? Or is it simply that I am coming down from busier times in the spring, summer and fall and not used to being so still? The more I ponder this, the more I believe my feelings fall under the latter.

Many years ago, my friend Susan coined the term “indoor guilt” to describe the feeling, especially in the Pacific Northwest, that if the weather is nice and you are not outdoors, you feel guilty for staying inside. My time off/weekends during the other 3 seasons are often busy with camping and hiking, so when winter rolls around with its 8-hour days of “light” (a loose definition depending on the cloud cover) and months of below freezing temps, it is a shock to slow down so drastically. However the reality is that winter can be a very fulfilling season too, just in a different, more restorative way. I am actively working on changing my mindset about winter from one of ugh, to one of ahhh. Oh mon dieu, when written down this sounds like I’m hawking some super cheesy bubble bath product. Anyhow, advertising slogan aside, what I am learning to embrace is that rest and hibernation are good things — with no indoor guilt.

Our culture is one where being extra busy is celebrated. When I started my career, coworkers routinely bragged about their long hours and the sacrifices of worked holidays as if badges of honor. This workaholic behavior was applauded; there was a bravado of so-and-so pulling “an all nighter” and keeping a clean shirt in their desk to change into. Taking an actual lunch break was noticed (and commented upon) and burnout was a sign of both physical and mental weakness. There were times where I wondered if hard work was judged not by the actual work product, but instead upon the hours spent at the desk. This was a harsh environment and I am fortunate that I did not get stuck in this overwork cycle, for I would be a very unhappy human being.

The super unhealthy “I’ll rest when I’m dead” mentality is being challenged. I hear more and more about the importance of rest for ourselves. Rest is essential and it doesn’t mean that you are being a slugabed. What is rest to one person may be different for someone else. Resting for me can be many things and can involve a book and cozy blanket, or listening (and only listening) to music, or cooking a pot of something comforting, or hand quilting or knitting. As someone who has been forced to slow down due to illnesses, the ability to choose to prioritize rest is a beautiful thing. I am continually working to let go of the culturally embedded notion of “wasted time”, that hyperproductive idea that I must constantly be doing/making. Purposefully slowing down is radical, a counterculture move to take time back from the burdens of overproduction. The cadence of our world is becoming so fast, it is exhausting. Therefore, for my own sake, it is necessary to have time to slow down.

Which leads me to how ruminations on winter and rest impact my quilting. I am someone who adores completion and does not like to leave tasks unfinished. This is not a bad quality and in fact, has been very helpful for me in the professional realm. But my time quiltmaking is my creative time and so deadlines and metrics have no place in my sewing room. I am not in production mode over here at Quiltunes headquarters and it is absolutely okay if some projects take months, or hell, even years to complete. I am constantly inspired with new ideas and I cannot do it all at once. Every time I have rushed a project, I regret my choices and who wants to live with regret over quilts? Not me. It takes a constant and conscientious effort for me to break free from the indoctrinated belief system that more product is better. In order to balance the proverbial devil (make more!) and angel (nah, kick up your feet!) on my shoulders, I made a to-do list of projects I want to work on. Actually let’s rebrand this list and call it a “things I am making” list. This paper lives in a drawer where it can easily be referenced, without hanging on the wall and giving me the stink eye every time I walk into the sewing room. I strive to act in a slow and methodical manner because even though the goal is to have quilts out in the world living their best life, the reason I make them is because I thoroughly love the process. If I didn’t find joy in everything* it takes to create a quilt, then I would find a way less time consuming passion if my focus was solely on output. *(Well, except basting, obviously.)

This post is inspired by the insightful song Slow Down by Andrew Duhon, a true household favorite. In fact, one of my first Quiltunes quilts was crafted to another poignant song of Andrew’s and his music continues to inspire. This particular song was written during the early days of the pandemic when we all quickly learned to slow down, and in some cases, halt. Like so many musicians, Andrew was forced to stop touring and instead performed from his living room in New Orleans. We tuned into these live shows and they were a balm in the midst of all that dark uncertainty. Although born out of the pandemic, the song resonates beyond that time to really remind us of the importance of slowing down. There is beauty in taking it slow. If you are not familiar with Andrew, give him a long listen.

Since I did not inherit the “winter is the best” gene that is so dominant in my family, I am calling upon my latent Scandinavian ancestry to kick into gear and show me how to do winter right. So hear, hear to the winter and the season of the slow! Yay for flannel pajamas and thick socks. And to lighting candles at 4 p.m. when the sun has set. You will still find me outside in the winter stomping around in the snow and cross country skiing (both activities I do genuinely enjoy) on the days where that is an appropriate activity. The outside time will be paired with a disproportionally large dose of cozy and warm time. Bring on the blankets (double strength, please), bring on the piles of books and bring on the constant warm beverages. During the winter, I will become a hardcore rester.

Album listened to Emerald Blue by Andrew Duhon. Every album of his is top notch.