Woven Roots Collective

One of our dogs, Izzy, has taken to standing in the middle of the yard facing the woods beyond our fence and barking for 10-20 minutes at a time, several times a day.

Today, as I heard her barking away in the background while I was attempting to meditate, the thought came to me, she’s not being bad or obnoxious. She’s singing to the land, communing with the forest, talking to all the beings—birds and squirrels and those less seen—that live on this land with us.

This is her offering. Her voice. Her love. Her daily practice.

Our neighbors might not appreciate this reframe, but it is bringing me a lot of joy to think about.

And reminding me to also sing to the land, commune with the forest, and talk to all the beings on this land with me.

What could this world be like if more of us made daily offerings of connection to the land we live on with love and attention?

Note: I couldn’t get a video of Izzy making her offering because every time she saw me, she ran to me for pets and play. So instead, I’m sharing a photo of her from another of her favorite daily spots, sitting on the porch where she can look out over her land, her friend.

It feels almost cliché to talk about slowing down during winter, but this year the reminder resonated so deeply I have to share about it. I actually started “wintering” weeks ago without meaning to. Fall was a whirlwind — so much happened at once, and then I sort of disappeared. Both personal and professional demands stacked up, my momentum tanked, and overwhelm took the wheel. My capacity felt low, which meant that pretty soon the fear and anxiety of not doing enough soared high. It’s a familiar loop for so many of us in this era of relentless pace.

Then I remembered: overwhelm isn’t a failure; it’s my body waving a flag. It’s a signal to pause, recalibrate, and carve out space for recovery. It’s not working against me — it’s trying to guide me.

And just as the body knows when to slow, so too does the natural world. Shorter days, colder temperatures, and longer evenings inspire a lifestyle that is incongruent with the hustle and grind, the endless summer common in the over-culture. They offer gentle nudges toward a rhythm that’s far more ancient and humane, and many people feel the impact of those nudges, however they respond to them.

Maybe it’s Seasonal Affective Disorder…or maybe it’s a deeper resonance in the bones, a knowing that winter simply asks something different of us. This season isn’t here to sabotage productivity or undermine our capacity. It’s an invitation to rest and digest — to metabolize all the year has held, to recuperate and quietly prepare for what comes next.

For me, overwhelm was just the reminder that I was resisting that invitation. Now, with renewed commitment to practice, I’m choosing to embrace the slower pace and let winter work its quiet magic.

Happy Solstice 🕯(December 21)

We are marking the Winter Solstice with a Rewilding Walk!

Join us Sunday, December 21, at Arabia Mountain for ritual and nature connection. Our Rewilding Walk includes embodiment practices, foraging of seasonal herbs to make tea onsite, and fellowship with the forest and each other.

The walk is approximately 2 miles. The path is fairly flat and natural terrain (rocks, roots, soft earth, etc). We will move at a slow pace, focusing on connection with our own bodies and senses, and the natural landscape.

The ritual will last about 2 hours, and there will be a point where you will be given the option to part from the group and stay longer in the woods if you’d like.

This is a free, or by donation, event, but we request that you RSVP by DMing us or emailing us at wovenrootscollectiveatl@gmail. This will let us know to be sure to wait for you before starting our ritual, as well as to provide you additional details, like where to meet.

We look forward to gathering!