It's 2024...Thank goodness.

Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell you to pick a word of the year. If you, like me, feel like a washed up survivor of 2023, pull up a chair and a cup of tea. It's okay to take a deep breath.

My writing group—the women with whom I share the largest chunk of my dreams and joys, fears and worries—we agreed to turn down the volume on 2024. No need to gather momentum or make resolutions. Choose a word of the year if you want, don’t if it feels like too much.

2023 wasn’t an easy one.

Usually some folks in my circle have fabulous years, while others are put through their paces. But 2023 seems to have been a near-universal wringer. So if you, like me, want to collapse in a sodden heap on the floor and spend a few weeks being grateful you made it through, this is your permission slip. If you (like me) wanna curse every person on Instagram who is posting highlight reels or suggesting banal and overplayed rituals to start the New Year, this is a chance to put your phone down.

Put it down. Put it all down.

We are deep in the womb of winter. Ignore the “New Year, new you!” announcements and let yourself be. Just be. See if you can remember what that feels like.

And let me know… cause that’s what I’ll be doing too.

xx Maia

To come in this issue:

- the results of my year end poll
- a book suggestion
- January seasonal reflection

Writing retreat update:

There are still a few spots available for January. Hit reply for details!

Meanwhile… the results are in!

Thanks to everyone who participate in the poll. It’s given me a solid foundation for how Unkempt will unspool this year.

Let’s start with some graphics, then I’ll give you my thoughts.

The graphic below displays the results on what kind of posts and offerings subscribers would love to have included in Unkempt.

The graphic below displays the results on whether 2 posts posts per month is not enough, too much, or just right.

Witch Camp has once again landed as a popular, sought after event!

Based on what you’ve told me:

• it seems that 2 posts a month with an occasional third (which is what I’ve been doing) is the sweet-spot for many paid subscribers. Free subscribers will get one post per month with an occasional second.

• some paid subscribers would like a little more AND, because only paid subscribers get seasonal events like Witch Camp, having seasonal events (100% voted for by paid subscribers) seems like the way to occasionally add some special sauce.

• we’ll be doing away with Unkempt Conversations, where I had chats with authors about magical topics, since that was clearly voted down. While I have no plans to start a new podcast at the moment, I will keep your thoughts in mind if I get the itch.

• in terms of content, it looks like we’ve already found the sweet spot! Which is oh so sweet.

So in response to your up vote for reading lists and book suggestions, I HIGHLY recommend the book I carried with me through the holiday season. Signal Fires is a match for the deep interiority of winter. For the writers in the group, this book is a masterclass. For the readers, you are in deft and sure hands with author Dani Shapiro. She’ll remind you of the depth and breadth of our human experience and how there’s always magic waiting in the wings. Don’t miss this one.

January Seasonal Reflection | Seeking Stillness

** Take what resonates and discard the rest! And if you, like me, can’t bear another thought about exercises, stop reading and go make another cup of tea.**

January is named for the Roman god Janus, who is pictured as having two faces: one pointing toward the past, and the other toward the future.

In this month, we look forward and we look back.

Think about the word darkness.

What are its connotations for you?

We have been enculturated into fear of the dark, thinking of darkness as a metaphor for evil, and considering the nothingness of darkness to be a void, a lack.

What if, instead, darkness is a womb, a chalice, a deep cave?

What can grow in that space? What if darkness is the Earth cradling a seed, a possibility, a beginning?

“I began to palpate the environment of the dark through what was absent in it: the stark, silent air emptied of bird speech, the branches undisturbed by the scuttle of playing squirrels; a dark so dark no shadows moved within it. I came to understand that the dark was like a wild creature and that to confront it directly was to drive it away. The dark asked to be apprehended by becoming like itself, by finding the place in myself that had no form, which was spacious and black as a hidden cave.

If I had been older, I might have found this task daunting... As a child it seemed simple: I closed my eyes and walked willingly into the dark that utterly inhabited my body... Bringing inward-seeking eyes to all my interior rooms, I found the darkness where loneliness lives, and the dark which soothes its burning despair with a cool, stroking hand. I found the dark that brings sleep, and the dark that invites us to recall the lost skill of night vision wherein spirits are made visible... I heard a voice winding out of the dark that propelled me to seek its origins... I followed this voice to its creative source... This small kernel settles like a pomegranate seed within me, becoming a core to which I could fly or flee when centering was sorely needed.”

From Herbal Rituals by Judith Berger which was originally published by St. Martin’s Press (New York, 1998). Judith has republished this sweet book and you can get your copy here.

Use these days of stillness to map your darkness and find its heart.

This is a lovely time of year: the nights are still long but the energy has shifted, and light is slowly returning. Think of yourself as a seed, deep in the Earth's dark soil. What are you dreaming of becoming?

Set aside an hour for reconnecting with yourself. Sit quietly and listen to your breath. Allow images, feeling, words, and thoughts to flow by.

When you are ready, grab art supplies, collage supplies, or your journal and express the dream of self that you are dreaming this winter.

Let these questions guide your thoughts. Perhaps you’ll decide to journal on them. For me, asking myself questions like these are part of my seasonal practice, it’s how I pull the energy of the season into my everyday life, allowing my inward thoughts to reflect the doings of the outer world. I return to these ideas over and over, season after season. My answers change and I’m sure yours will as well.

If you are so moved, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.