Late winter is for softness, shoots, shimmers and spell-casting.
dreaming with my eyes open and a handful of half-formed thoughts.
Hello, I am so glad you have found your way here… I’m Lyndsay — mother, creative and storyteller with a background in interiors PR.
Step inside Story & Thread., a cosy, layered home where the threads of creativity, interiors and mothering meet. Here, we unearth the stories from the seasons of our lives, with a house & a garden at the heart, and everyday beauty as our guide…
“That's what winter is: an exercise in remembering how to still yourself then how to come pliantly back to life again”.
—Ali Smith.
Dearest reader
How are you faring as we find our way through January?
Granted, it does feel like a long month, but that is not something I am averse to right now. Of course, there are undoubtedly moments that feel like a feat of endurance — but it is a stretch of time that the living world (including us) needs in order to be ‘come back to life again’.
There is much subtle magic to be found, if you look close enough, the bare branches are studded with buds and the shoots of new life are emerging through cold ground. I am filled with anticipation as I see the white-tipped silver green shoots of snowdrops standing tall in the garden, awaiting the right moment to open.
As I wrote about last week, January is not to be rushed into, or rushed through. We are so often on a quest for more time in our everyday lives that perhaps January is the time to lean into it fully, to make space and craft foundations that will take us through the seasons ahead…
Fragments of half-formed thoughts.
A new chapter.
I am only now beginning to find my feet in this year, in the first full week of our new chapter — with my son joining my daughter at the nursery within her school each morning. It is a joy to be able to drop both children at the same place in the morning, not only for the obvious ease of going to one place, but also knowing that they are together (well, in spaces side by side) once again.
I am slowly sensing into these new short but spacious mornings. Although there is a lot more I would like to fit in, and I certainly can’t venture very far — there is freedom in having some space to decompress from the morning mayhem, to think my own thoughts for a little while, and there is comfort in knowing that I can come back to the things I have started (and inevitably not finished) tomorrow.
Sacred structure and radiant rest.
In some ways, it feels as though I am beginning to reclaim some time from the past five full on years of mothering, and although I would like to retain an aspect of space, I am keen to overlay a sense of ‘sacred structure’ that
often refers to. This way, as the morning minutes slip away like the sand in an egg-timer, I can hold some of them in my hands before the time disintegrates into nothingness.The precious minutes are filled with things I both want and need to do, and that replenish me — time is spent drafting words that will tell the stories of beautiful brands like design gallery Wren Studios; writing more words that find their way onto the page here and to you, about a life lived at the intersection of mothering, creativity in all its forms, through the lens of the seasons in a home and a garden; the conjuring of even more words destined for a book project (more details below); and then the act of actually getting out into the garden, to paying some attention to our home and our lives here; as well as reinstating a long-lost movement practice that feels good in my body; with pockets found for deep-diving practices that both fill me up and inspire me.
For now, I need to be sensible about what is in the realms of possibility in a couple of hours, and choose just one or two things from a boundless, infinite list. As there is little time for ‘rest’ as such in my day-to-day, I am realising, that each of the things mentioned above, from work to words to walking, feel intentional, connect me inwards, fulfil and energise me, and so perhaps are a form of radiant rest… At 12pm when I pick up my son, I am launched back to my mothering role until 7pm, when I may have another couple of hours until I am needed once more…
Dreaming with my eyes open.
Inspired by
, I created an oracle spread for the year, with a card for each month as a prompt, an idea to ponder and revisit — and I am sure the layers will reveal themselves as the months pass. My card for January is the magical mushroom, which in my mind relates to the breaking down of matter, nourishment, of interconnectedness, and the role of community.
A whole year feels like a long time to plan and although I have many ideas of the things I want to do, see and experience this year, I feel more comfortable with looking at one season at a time. The mushroom feels like a sign to break things down in a more manageable way, which for me means planning seasonally at the very most, with a word for the season as an anchor and a weekly oracle card to inspire.
I have also been devoting time to
’s Book Dream Incubator course to help shape a book idea into a proposal, and beyond. The prospect of writing a book bringing together many of my favourite things calls me deeply and feels aligned with the way I love to live/work. It feels as though it could bring together many pieces of me — the historian, investigating, reading and researching; the storyteller, crafting words and communicating stories that need to be told; the Virgo deeply grounded in the earth as medicine; and the intuitive part of me, sensing, feeling and embodying the meaning of the world around me.
Meaningful messages.
This week I received a message for my rising sign (Virgo) from Girl and Her Moon for Aquarius season which felt so beautifully aligned with all of the things I have been thinking about this week, that Aquarius season would elicit…
“…a shift in the way you move through your days. Radical change as you tend to your body, your mind and your soul through ritual, habit and routines. It invites more light, freedom, ideas, space, exploration and expansion into yourself through your day-to-day. For an opening is calling your name. Inspiration is calling your name. And the call to become a conduit for evolution and sacred creation is calling your name”.
As mentioned above, I intend to pull an oracle card each week as a ritual to begin the week, and as a point to ponder and return to. This week, I pulled the purpose card from The Whole Woman oracle by
, and it really couldn’t feel more apt in this dream space of January and late winter. The card’s key words are longing, conviction and fulfilment…“how you will glow when you know your power, when you devote hours to what feels real and true to you”.
And that really is how I want to spend my year — devoting my time to what feels real and true.
A Seasonal Salon. for winter.
And so as we move through the misty dream-like portal of January towards the soft shimmers and buds of potential of February, I wanted to let you know about the winter edition of A Seasonal Salon., which will take place at 10am GMT on Wednesday 5th February 2025.
A Seasonal Salon. is an online creative gathering as part of The Beauty Thread. membership — inviting us to anchor and soften into the season, as we create time and space to notice, and take cues from the beauty that surrounds us. We will weave together seasonal reflections, poetry and prose, flowers and folklore. You can check out the autumn edition below to see what it is all about…
Sensing the season as it unfolds.
A growing luminescence begins as a feeling and becomes a visual truth as days lengthen once again by the end of January.
It signifies a hint at gentle reawakening and reemergence whilst nurturing what we have been reflecting on and dreaming of over the winter months.
It reminds me of hushed hidden potential, just like the quiet movement that is happening deep underground and within the tight buds on the trees.
The beginning of February is marked by the cross-quarter Celtic festival of Imbolc, meaning ‘in the belly’, which to me represents the silent growth in darkness that requires deep-rooted trust. Imbolc also marks the midpoint between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, honouring the stirrings of new life and the slow, steady return of the light.
By the time we reach the 5th February, we will have experienced a tangible shift towards more light and the beginnings of new growth in the earth, and yet cosiness is still very much required.
The 5th itself is the day of the first quarter of the moon, waxing its way towards the Full Snow Moon (also known as the Storm moon, Ice Moon and the Hunger moon) in the sign of Leo which hints at gentle radiance. We will be reaching the heights of fresh, progressive Aquarius season, a time for thinking about the way we spend our days. Late winter and early spring flowers will be making their way through the earth, promising us that life and light will return, and was never really very far away. The beginning of February also sees St Brigid’s Day and Candlemas — all festivals celebrating light, fire, rebirth and a stirring of hope for the season ahead.
Light a candle with me.
It feels like a quietly potent time to light a candle and gather — to come back together after a season of rest, to reflect on the season of dreams, to shed more light and cast spells that may help to make them a reality. To not only move through this silvery light-laced portal together — but to engage in the threshold it represents, orienting ourselves fully into the season and actively participating in illuminating the path of soft emergence in the season ahead.
The winter edition of A Seasonal Salon. is an opportunity to gather together — as the light returns, we cast spells, kindle dreams and lace them in light.
I would be so delighted if you chose to gather around the shoots and shimmers with me, where, by weaving together stories, art, folklore and flowers, we will:
reflect on the season so far
make time to notice how the beauty of the season unfolding around us
kindle sparks of new life as cues to craft intentions as we move further into the lighter, growth seasons.
It will be a time to notice the shoots of growth after a deep season of rest, to look to the light to illuminate the next small steps on our path ahead.
Some notes.
*A recording will be provided if you cannot make the Salon live, however I would love to share the magic of this moment in real time if you can make it.
**More details will follow including notes on creating a sacred seasonal space, and a link to register for A Seasonal Salon., for paid subscribers.
**If you are reading in the southern hemisphere you will be moving towards autumn which of course, feels quite different. Nevertheless, I encourage you to join us if the time difference allows, as I feel sure you will gain something from making the space for yourself to reflect on the season so far, and to spend time in a creative space with others, which always seems to weave a certain kind of magic…
A Seasonal Salon. is part of The Beauty Thread., the new paid membership tier of Story & Thread. — held within a series of seasonal offerings is an invitation to notice, hold and create beauty in our own worlds, woven together by the ever-changing seasons, both around us and within us. You can read more about The Beauty Thread. here and below…
Thank you so much for reading — don’t hesitate to ask me any questions about A Seasonal Salon. or The Beauty Thread. by sending me a message or by replying to this email.
I look forward to gathering together, and learning a little of your dreams for the seasons ahead.
P.S. See some recent winter posts below including the first edition of A Storied Home. in winter — a very gentle guide to creating a sanctuary for softening into the season.
I loved this Lyndsay and am so looking forward to catching up on your call on Feb 5th. Sadly I'll be working so I can't make it in person, but I adored listening in on the first one a few months ago.
I am so excited about your book idea and am eager to see it birthed into the world. You will bring such intention and beauty with it, I am so sure. x
‘Radiant rest’ so beautifully sums up where I’m at right now. I’m fully hibernating but also have a small person to care for and entertain… however this looks so very different now; with slow mornings, lots of crafts and winter walks. My rest isn’t sitting on the sofa per se, but it somehow still feels restorative and radiant!