February: The Stirring Under the Frost. Why the "Shambles" is Part of the Bloom…
The Norfolk landscape in February is deceptive. At Fairhaven, the woodlands look dormant, even frozen. But if you look closer, the snowdrops are pushing through as small, brave, white-headed rebels, and the sap is beginning its slow, silent climb.
In therapy, we often suffer from "Change Urgency." Anxiety is a loud, demanding passenger; it tells us that if we aren’t transformed by Tuesday, we’re failing. We want the big, visible bloom now. We want the resolution, the "New Me," the sudden clarity.
But after 8 years of clinical work and 45+ years of "humaning", I've learned that the most sustainable growth doesn't start with a flourish. It starts in the Shambles.
The Micro-Growth of the Shambles
I recently shared a post about the "Oil and Water" of our logic and emotions. When we are in a period of "Decision Dread" or deep anxiety, everything feels separated and messy. We feel like a "Shambles"a messy emulsion that won't quite hold together.
But here is the "Seasoned" truth: The Shambles isn't a sign that you're stuck; it’s the stirring under the frost. The Internal Shift: It’s that tiny, microscopic moment where you notice the self-criticism before you voice it.
The Micro-Movement: It’s the split-second pause, the breath you take before reacting to an old trigger.
The Hidden Work: It’s the "whisking" of your logic and emotion that happens in the quiet of my room in South Walsham or along the path at Fairhaven.
The "Wood Wide Web" and the Chain of Connection
While we are walking the path at Fairhaven, the trees are actually talking. February is a peak time for the "Wood Wide Web" the underground fungal networks (mycelium) that connect the forest. They are busy sharing nutrients and "data" about the coming spring long before a single leaf appears.
This is exactly like the work we do in the room. Just because you aren't "doing" anything visible doesn't mean your roots aren't communicating and strengthening. In British Sign Language (BSL), the sign for "connection" looks like links in a chain. It’s a beautiful visual for that invisible support system, the way we link our past experiences to our present understanding to create a stronger future.
The Prototype Month
Since it’s 2026, we don't have a leap day this year, but we can still borrow the energy. February is the only month that is "incomplete"; it’s short, odd, and slightly eccentric, the month, not me, well, not entirely me.
Let’s embrace being "unfinished". (Okay, that’s definitely me). February is the month of the prototype. It’s okay if your plans are currently just a rough sketch in the mud. In therapy, we don't need a finished masterpiece; we just need a willing experiment.
The Magic in the Mud
In February, the Norfolk ground is at its muddiest. In therapy, we often hate the mud; it’s messy, it sticks to our boots, and it slows us down. But mud is just soil plus water. It is the ultimate emulsion. Without the "mess" of the mud, the roots wouldn't have the moisture they need to eventually bloom.
"Don't clean your boots just yet; the mud is where the magic is."
Antifreeze for the Soul
Did you know snowdrops have a built-in 'antifreeze'? They contain a specific protein that prevents ice crystals from forming in their cells, allowing them to push through frozen earth without shattering.
In therapy, our 'antifreeze' is our resilience and our clinical boundaries. It’s the stuff that keeps us soft enough to grow even when the world feels biting. You are sturdier than the frost gives you credit for; you just need the right environment to let that protein do its work.
Trusting the Invisible Season
Imbolc reminds us that "dormant" is not the same as "dead." If you feel like you are currently in a place where things are breaking down but not yet building up, know that this is a vital part of the cycle. You are in the "whisking" phase. You are an emulsion in progress.
You don't need to bloom today. You just need to allow the stirring.
Stay grounded, nourish some roots, and embrace the mud.