We haven’t lost ourselves. We have lost our cycles.

I have just come out of a very busy period – leading wedding ceremonies on weekends in my role of a celebrant, managing two busy young fellas over extended Summer holidays and the beginning of a new school year in my role of a mumma, maintaining the quite often fast moving film work in my role as a producer, and of course, the very gentle slow creation of this cherished space in my founding role of Ceremonial.

It's been a lot. 

But what I hadn’t considered, as someone in my second year of leading wedding ceremonies, is there is something built into this work (largely by consequence at this point, I would suggest) that is very connected to the way we as humans used to live.

The wedding industry here in Victoria is inherently seasonal, largely dictated by the weather. I say this is likely consequential because the wedding industry is no different to any other industry these days – fast moving and prioritising money making. But here where I am, not many people are keen to get married in late Autumn or Winter in the cold and unpredictable outside weather.

As much as I love my work as a celebrant, there was an unfamiliar delight in coming home from my ‘final wedding of the season’, unpacking my equipment, putting my formal clothes towards the back of my wardrobe, and knowing that this particular part of my life would be somewhat slower for the next 4-5 months. 

At the same time, I stumbled on an interview with musical group Heilung (imperative listening for anyone interested in ceremonies and medieval rights of passage work) speaking to the fact that they were in their own winter and wouldn’t be touring or performing until the end of that cycle.

Their decision to stop touring wasn't a pause in their art; it was a deepening of it. That distinction gave me permission to see my own slowing down not as a halt, but as a deepening.

The important truth to this is that so many people around the world are not in a position to slow down for something as significant as a full season, whatever that looks like. Most people barely scrape back enough rest or quiet play time during weekends and/or short holidays throughout the year.

This was not always the way. Historically, we understood slower seasons to be imperative and allowed space for active internal work and reflecting, dreaming, storytelling and crafting, and deep rest without explanation.

Although I am not in the depth of a slow winter for myself, I very much still have other work and commitments happening outside of the wedding industry, I am coming to the realisation that there’s a real opportunity in the space that’s been created in my life for this period.

I could look to fill it with other pieces of work. I could mindlessly use this space by following the threads of all the systems designed to hook us in and take our time – social media, television, fear-mongering news headlines etc. 

Or, I could return to something truer of what this slower period was meant for.

And that’s what I am choosing to do. Intentionally.

For me this slower season will focus on a few things I haven’t found time for but have desperately been drawn to.

Firstly, researching my family ancestry. Something I've longed to do, yet consistently underestimated the time required for. Something that will inform my own life and practices going forward. Something I understand to be imperative to understanding my own identity and to honour and learn from those who came before me. This research isn't just about the past; it's about uncovering the rituals and rhythms my own bloodline knew, rhythms I hope to weave back into Ceremonial

Secondly, connecting to our glorious Mother Nature. At a time where there is so much fear, news and fast paced dangerous political actions taking place across the world, I feel a gentle pull to return to what has always been here. To remember that there is beauty in the tiniest of things, all around us, all the time. To give back to a system that has given endlessly to us. I will literally be planting seeds, taking in the awe of nature and learning from her.

Thirdly, deep rest. This is the first time in the last twenty-nine years of my working life that I am understanding the importance of saying no to a career that fills all gaps if I would let it. It takes a great amount of discipline and awareness to put down the conditioning that tells me ‘take the job’, ‘you need more’, and the endless pressure to 'do more'. The joy of an afternoon bath between my producing work and picking up my children from school, the relief in twenty more minutes in bed, a day of quiet in nature, a weekend away to myself etc. We all need it, I am listening to that and ensuring I carve that time out and protect it fiercely.

And when I say we all need it, we do.

We are no different to every other creature or living organism on this planet. It’s a bigger discussion and consideration around the current systems we live in where the idea of ‘carving out’ time to slow our lives and come back to ourselves feels a luxury.

For me, this is the way I can do that for myself despite the world we live in, not because of it. My hope is that someday that will flip and we will have this built in to every role we take on in our lives. 

And if you are reading this, I hope you can find your moments within the chaos too. To settle into the quieter seasons of your life and remember who you are and what this is all about.

We must.

Written by storyteller, celebrant and founder of Ceremonial, Diana Fisk.