Amidst the wild temperature swings and with more of Q1 (Jan-Feb-Mar) behind us than ahead, I'm prompted to stop myself for a check-in.

Am I still going in the right direction? Am I still on the right path?

Well, the short answer is yes. Just by showing up to write every Sunday, I'm aligned with the intentions I set at the beginning of the year.

But the longer answer is "meh."

It's difficult to celebrate incremental progress when the process has become so routine.

Womp. Womp.

The cool thing I'm learning though, is that this lackluster, melancholy feeling is normal, and helpful to acknowledge.

This morning the headiest subscription in my inbox, Brain Pickings, reminded me that "great sadnesses clarify us to ourselves — winters of the spirit come in various sizes and cycles."

Katherine May, author of Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, sums it up well:

"[Since childhood] we are taught to ignore sadness, to stuff it down into our satchels and pretend it isn’t there. As adults, we often have to learn to hear the clarity of its call. That is wintering. It is the active acceptance of sadness. It is the practice of allowing ourselves to feel it as a need. It is the courage to stare down the worst parts of our experience and to commit to healing them the best we can. Wintering is a moment of intuition, our true needs felt keenly as a knife."

Ask Yourself

• What aspects of my art, relationship, or career are currently in hibernation?

• Is there any sadness in my psyche that needs recognizing?

• Where can I go for rest? Who is available to support me in a healthy and productive way?