Notes From My Desk is a series I share four times a year—a place to pause at the close of a season and reflect on what stood out. Honest observations, plus a quiet check-in on what feels supportive moving forward—toward more flow (and less friction), simpler rhythms, and a more easeful way of being.

·

This winter felt like a mixed bag.

Heavier than usual. I struggled with sluggishness and feeling exhausted, both in body and spirit. (If you’re thinking same—honestly, who didn’t? With the world right now, nervous system overload is pretty valid.)

Nothing felt particularly balanced, internally or externally, and I plodded through the weeks of deep winter without much “output” to show for it. The shift into late winter and early spring added another layer of restlessness. Like the wildly swinging weather—80 degrees one day, snow the next—my energy felt just as sporadic and unpredictable.

Overall, I felt uneasy. About the broader state of the world, absolutely—but also about myself. As I dug more into that personal uneasiness, I realized it was about productivity. 

About doing.

·

Looking back, before winter had even started, I’d already mentally filled it with projects.

There were plans to make meaningful progress on several tasks, both house- and business-related (perfect for cold weather when I’m stuck inside, I told myself). All the things I hadn’t gotten to earlier in the year—or, if I’m being honest, things I hadn’t gotten to in years.

Winter is a great time to catch up. No yard work, fewer outdoor demands—so I’ll have more time and capacity. Right?

That’s what I told myself.

But the thing is—many of those winter projects didn’t happen. 

Which left me feeling disappointed, frustrated with myself, and even more behind.

Uneasy.

·

So I started looking at it more closely.

I can see now that I’d been using winter as a kind of catch-up season—the place where everything I didn’t get to gets stored for later. Like the desk drawer I keep pushing miscellaneous projects and papers into, thinking I’ll deal with this soon.

But treating winter like a productivity window is really just slipping back into that cultural mindset of constant output—where energy is expected to be steady, available, and endless.

Even though I know better—I'm actively trying to live in better alignment with my own needs and natural rhythms—it’s not always easy to move against that current.

And there’s a deeper pattern in there too. Over-functioning. Overestimating. Carrying more than I need to. The kind of conditioning that’s easy to maintain (especially as a woman), and hard to notice until you’re worn down by it.

I’ve been working on untangling that in recent years—slowly. More awareness. Better boundaries. Listening more closely to what actually feels supportive. Letting go of what doesn’t.

Putting some of that weight down.

But even with all of that, I missed something simple. Something I already know—but easily forget.

Winter isn’t meant to hold everything I didn’t get to—it’s meant to hold me.

Winter isn’t extra time. It’s restorative time.

I’m not a machine that can keep going at the same pace, no matter the week or season. Just like the natural world we’re part of, there are rhythms—ebb and flow, rest and growth. And winter is the quieter part of that cycle.

And remembering that is shifting how I want to approach winter moving forward.

➝ Give myself permission to truly slow down, do much less, and resist the temptation to pile on those "overdue" projects. 

➝ Prioritize the simple, restorative things. Read. Write. Reflect. Gather with loved ones. Maybe work on a few small things, as energy allows. 

And let that be enough. Let rest be part of the rhythm—not something to earn after everything else is done.

It’s ok to rest.
To exist.
To be present.
To not be producing all the time.

All of this reminds me of a favorite quote (attributed to Frank Lloyd Wright):

'Stay close to nature; it will never fail you.'

A reminder that we are nature. And it’s hard—maybe impossible—to feel well when we’re constantly pushing against its rhythms instead of moving with them.

I'm pretty sure I’m not the only one who experienced some version of this. 

If this past winter felt heavy for you too… if your energy didn’t quite match what you expected of yourself… it might not actually be a problem to fix.

It might just be the season asking something different of you.

Less output. More restoration. Quieter rhythms. A return to what actually supports you.

·

And eventually spring comes, in its own time—
bringing a different kind of energy.

Much love to you,