December brings the shortest day of the year (Thursday, Dec. 21st, this year). For a lot of people, these short days are difficult. For me, that was the case for a long time, until I began to think about this as a season for drawing into dormancy. By this, I don’t mean I do nothing (in fact, I try to spend more time outside as a balance to the limited sunshine). But I do mean that I work to offer myself more forgiveness on the days I feel slower or lethargic or go to sleep especially early. I try to remember the invention of electric lights meant our work days could be extended, and the invention of more advanced technology means we’re often expected to be “on call” all the time—if not for work, then for friends or the news or family.
December also brings the return of the sun after the solstice and this can be an ideal time to begin planning next year’s garden. If you keep a gardening journal, you can take the time to review your notes from years past. You can sketch out your current or planned garden and start plotting which plants will go where (and this should, to the extent possible, be based on what was planted where over the past few years to avoid planting nightshades, for instance, in the same place).
Many seed providers have made their 2018 catalogs available by now and flipping through these beauties is one of the ways to bring some bounty and color into your life (you can order these online, if you want one delivered, or browse online catalogs). I’m especially fond of planting heirloom fruits, vegetables, and herbs and so as I plan my garden, I think not only about what should be planted where, but also what seeds I know how to save and what I want my garden to look like: do I want a purple garden? One with produce like jewels? One with only plants designed to grow in our region or one with a few plants I’ll need to nurture a bit more to get them to survive in our semi-arid environment? What can I do to enrich the soil?
It’s also important to remember that you’re allowed to change your mind, to make mistakes, to rip out plants mid-season if they aren’t working for you. Which is to say that you can deconstruct relationships with people as well.
These are, more or less, the questions we should be asking about our lives, in general, and especially if we’re inclined toward making resolutions for the new year: What should I change for the next year? Do I want a garden of people who hold some trait that is especially valuable to me in this period of my life, who will support the changes I’m making to my life? Or, do I want to diversify my support networks because the changes I will make this next year require additional resiliency? Who are the gems in my life and how do I wish to better honor them? What of my traits serves me best at this phase in life, and what can be discarded? What relationships (or aspects of them)—with myself and/or with others—need a bit more care? Who have I hurt and if amends can be made—and I’m ready to move in that direction—how do I make them?
Answers to these questions may not come easy. And while that may be challenging, it’s okay. It is part of being human, and we should offer ourselves the same kindness we’d extend to someone we love who is grappling with these same questions.
It’s also important to remember that you’re allowed to change your mind, to make mistakes, to rip out plants mid-season if they aren’t working for you. Which is to say that you can deconstruct relationships with people as well. You have the choice of who and what is in your life, and to what extent. And this too can be complicated and messy, and a heart-wrenching choice. But you deserve to thrive and be surrounded by people who will support the choices you make; who hold you up to light when you need extra light; who nourish you; who allow you times of darkness because they understand we all need time with it, while still holding you in positive regard.
These longer nights don’t last forever—by the end of the month, days will be subtly growing longer and we can be planning our gardens or planning our lives, while also taking nourishment from this slower season.
Liz Clift holds a Permaculture Design Certificate, and works for a restoration ecology firm. In her free time, she is involved in social justice and community-based medicine. She is working to expand her knowledge of native plants.
