Saturday Musings: Winter, Visibility & the Search for What’s Missing
A personal, wandering reflection on self-discovery, performance, belonging, God, digital rabbit holes, and learning to soften toward the colder seasons of life.
A different kind of blog this one… just me here on a Saturday morning while my teenagers sleep, coffee in hand, glorious sun out the window. Just a woman and her random thoughts on life this week.
This isn’t a polished teaching piece or one that has a neatly wrapped conclusion. It is more a collection of reflections, questions, observations, and threads I’ve been quietly tugging on this week.
Things I'm Contemplating This Week
Autumn is well and truly here in Brisbane now. The cold mornings and evenings are back, and with them, my same old resistance to winter. Every year I catch myself bracing for it, frustrated that the cold is coming, frustrated that I dislike it so much.
Maybe I never learnt how to be with the cold as a child of sunny Queensland. Although when I remember cold mornings in Longreach, stockings, dresses, cardigans, clothes warming on the heater, flannelette sheets, I realise it may not be the cold itself I dislike, but the heaviness it brings. The layers against my skin, constricting… I can feel it even as I write. I’ll take togs and a thin breathable shirt any day.
I bought a book on wintering recently because the book I actually wanted felt too expensive. A chapter in, I got bored and bought another small book… and then another. None of them gave me what I thought I was looking for. Somehow I ended up reading something completely different, marketing and visibility.
Not surprising really, as I’ve been part of a visibility course these past couple of months, quietly searching for the thing I feel I might be missing.
The relentless search for 'Who Am I Really?'
Have you ever felt like that? Like there’s something other people naturally understand that you somehow missed? So you go hunting for it, convinced that if you could just find it, maybe you too could have the life, success, ease, or recognition they seem to possess.
Sometimes I think that’s been the story of my adult life.
Not always. But perhaps since around twenty-seven, the search intensified. A rapid search, maybe even a frantic one. So much money, time, energy spent trying to figure out who I am, what I’m here for, what makes me happy.
There have been moments where I’ve found it, periods of peace, enjoyment, clarity, before the cycle begins again.
At times it feels relentless. Sometimes I fear I’ve wasted years chasing self-understanding while relationships sat quietly to the side. And somewhere in all of it is the blurry line between truly knowing yourself and trying to become someone the world approves of, someone it is willing to pay.
Where does what is true end, and where does performance begin?
And yet perhaps even the wrong turns serve a purpose. Sometimes following someone else’s process only teaches you who you are not. That too is self-discovery I suppose, just not in the nice, neat little package our minds desired.
Is this why the masters ask, “Who are you really?”
Has this pattern existed for centuries? Is it really not a new-world problem at all? Have humans always searched like this, but only now the rabbit holes are digital?
Softening my relationship with Winter
But back to winter.
I’ve spent the last few years contemplating autumn so deeply that perhaps my mind naturally wants to move toward winter now. Or perhaps I genuinely want to understand why I resist it so much.
Winter brings up something close to hatred in me. How many times a week do I say, “I hate the cold”? With no curiosity for what winter offers, which is exactly why I want to contemplate it, to soften my relationship with it and understand Winters’ purpose rather than simply enduring it.
Another thing I’ve been contemplating this week came from a random post about our relationship with God.
I wouldn’t call myself particularly religious. Technically I am Catholic, but not deeply within the church – we didn’t grow up going regularly, it was mostly something we received through school. Yet when I reflect back, I miss parts of it, the candles, the singing, the prayer, the altars. There was something beautiful in the ritual, something I haven’t quite been able to cultivate in my adult life.
Maybe that’s why I long for small gatherings now. People coming together wanting connection, ritual, belonging.
A nature mandala built together. Someone bringing a poem, a song, a prayer, a recipe, a book, a piece of art. “Share with me what you know.” Genuine curiosity about how others prepare for winter, for life, for grief, for change.
Candles lit for those who cannot attend, incense curling through the room… finding ways for the small sacred things.
The art of consuming information, knowledge and feedback
I think part of me is afraid of sharing myself with the world because I fear my original intent will become distorted by advice, feedback, opinions, shaped into something no longer my own.
I often slip into the role of student or child, assuming others must know better than I do. It is not a bad position to be in, only when it steers you away from yourself and what you know is true for you. Maybe that’s the difference of the child perspective to the student perspective? The student is wise and can contemplate, the child just blindly believes. Maybe.
My conclusion to this is, I think there’s an art to consuming information, knowledge, feedback. Letting it swirl around inside you, taking what is good for you and leaving what isn’t. Instead of assuming everything you are given or told is right for you and in doing so, creating a coating lets say upon your original cells, another layer that will need to be removed at some point.
The alternative to taking it all, is to take nothing and I don’t believe that is particularly healthy either – rejecting everything and allowing ego alone to steer. When ego steers it still feels like a surface-level living, because you are protecting what’s inside the cells ensuring nothing gets to them, and so then we lack connection – inwards and outwards.
What I want is stronger more empowered cells and roots. A stronger connection to myself, so my cellular energy can blossom and expand naturally toward and into the world rather than perform for it.
Contemplating a relationship with God
Back to God (or Universe, Cosmos – whatever is relevant to you).
The post I read spoke about having a secure functioning relationship with God.
- What would it actually feel like to relate to God as if he were right in front of you? To converse and connect with him, as if he were right there staring into your eyes, feeling the cyclical flow of connection and energy?
- What would it be like to know that he has cares about you and is happy to hear about your day?
- What would it be like to not have to recite, beg, perform, grovel or even hope – just be with someone who is simply present with you?
These are the thoughts that I am waking to this week, spending just 5 minutes with this idea. Perhaps this is the ritual that bring me warmth through the winter and beyond.
Other things on my mind this week
Other things I’ve contemplated and sat with this week:
What do I want to be known for?
What do I have that people truly need?
My relationship with God.
My connection to the dead. Is it real? Is it possible?
Belonging. Not just belonging but the importance of feeling needed within a group.
Regret. Saying yes when I knew something was a no.
Gratitude. Do I really understand it?
Winter. Can I soften my hatred of the cold?
Whether I really need another coffee.
Slowly stepping out of my hermit cave and reconnecting with old relationships.
Whether I can truly receive the love of my ancestors.
AI overtaking human voice and expression. Are we losing something essential?
What it is I actually do in my work.
The delight of discovering passionfruit growing in my garden.
Seasonal cooking. Where did my excitement for it go? Can I get there again?
Christmas in July. Why did it once work so beautifully?
What genuinely brings me joy now.
What would deepen who I already am instead of pulling me further away from myself.
As always, if any of this resonates and you would like to share reach out, I love hearing from those who enjoy or are moved by my writing.
Meet The Author
Amy Doyle
Amy is a Holistic Counsellor who helps her clients move from this idea that they are broken or missing pieces of their own puzzle, to owning their story, claiming back all parts of themselves and merging together as one team to allow them to rest and be in their deepest expression.
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