Grace Gallagher in the Alewife Brook Reservation. Creds: Micah Yannatos
-By Grace Gallagher
Grace is a graduate student at Harvard Divinity School (HDS) and a fellow at MyRWA, fulfilling her field education requirement for her Masters of Divinity. She is not religiously affiliated but studies spirituality of land and more-than-human beings.
I gave a sermon to the Mystic River at the end of October. Last week, we sang to the trees at Spy Pond. Maybe this weekend we can invite the squirrels and birds to light our menorahs with us. All of our community, even the wee-beasties and rooted giants, follow the slow and rhythmic cycles of our seasons. The rituals of gathering together, encouraging one another, and sharing light spread beyond our human spaces. Last week, some of you came to an event that I led to welcome winter. This ritual included mindfulness of our interconnectedness with our entire watershed, reflection on seasons, and some whimsical singing and crafts.
A group returning to the office after the Whimsical Winter Welcome event on 12/12. Creds: Shannon Collins
Exploring the relationship between us and the Mystic River this year, I have been inspired by many folks about their own rituals. Whether you watch the sunrise over the river, walk your dog along its banks, bike the greenways beside it, or cross a bridge over it–we are constantly coexisting with the river. Creating intentional moments of gratitude in our everyday practices can foster a spiritual wellness for both ourselves, the river, and all the other beings we live alongside.
When I spoke to the river earlier this year, I reflected on the generosity in particular that I have witnessed from its banks. In my inaugural and possibly final sermon of my life, I shared my hope for the river’s larger community. Surely there is an abundance of food and resources–just ask the geese! And the river’s flow is continuous–certified by our largest recorded Herring migration. The river provides plenty of warmth for the turtles basking in summer light and the paddlers in their kayaks.
Much of that warmth has faded, as ice begins to form along the river banks with the beginning of winter. As the rich abundance of spring and summer life drift away with the fallen leaves, a new miracle sprouts from the sky with the first snow. Perhaps you envy the migrating birds, following the sunshine and warmth southwards over winter. Or maybe you feel bare like the trees who have lost their leaves, shuddering with each snowfall. Maybe you become like a bear, holed up at home and enjoying the holiday feasts in your own mini hibernation.
Alewife Brook covered in ice. Creds: Grace Gallagher
I relate to the river in winter. With the snowfall and melting ice, the Mystic River increases its flow rate and churns quietly. Without the distractions of cyanobacteria or unwanted plants, the river enjoys a brief season of its own. The river comes astonishingly alive in the cover of long nights. I too begin to find abundance in the darkness of the winter. With less activity all around me, I cozy up inside and mimic the river. I return to old crafts left in the closet since last winter. I read (most of) the books that were recommended to me. I try new recipes and invite a few friends over for dinner. I find light in the intimacy of winter. My schedule slows down and my meetings cease. I light candles in the early dusk and leave them on for the hours before I sleep. I find the light of my inner world during the quietness of winter.
Still, I am not quite sure if this is my favorite season. By February, I will be dreading the cold like the rest of us. The blooming flowers of April will stun me into new poetics of my own blooming. Maybe I just like the first month of each season best. Each cycle reminds me once again of my own seasons. Even if winter is not your favorite season, I hope you see the magic in slowness and darkness. Light can be found shining through the bare tree branches, reflecting off the snow, around a warm fire, or among one another. Whatever you make of the winter season, I hope you find light and warmth.
