Still a Dragon… Just Needed Winter…

Still a Dragon… Just Needed Winter…

I’ve been gone a long while…

Months, actually. And I won’t dress that up. Not because I had nothing to say, but because life required my full attention. Anyone who’s lived through a hard stretch knows this: there are seasons when you don’t narrate your life, you just live it. You get through the day. You mind what needs minding. You choose where your energy goes, because there isn’t much  to spare.

Winter arrived, and I let it. Winter has a way of quietening everything. The outside noise drops away. The distractions thin out. What’s left is what’s real, what holds heat, what can actually sustain you. I stepped back during that time, not out of fear and not because of defeat, but out of self-preservation.


I needed less talking and more listening. Less reacting and more grounding. Less explaining myself to people who were never listening anyway. I’ve always known my nature. I’m a Dragon. And that doesn’t mean constant fire, drama, or noise. Dragons don’t perform. They don’t chase. They don’t roar on demand. Sometimes they retreat. Sometimes they rest. Sometimes they let the cold do its work while they shed what no longer fits.That’s what these months have been. A shedding. A re-calibration. A strengthening of boundaries that should have been firmer long ago.


Things were happening in the background that didn’t need commentary. Some situations are better understood with distance. Some truths don’t reveal themselves when you’re standing too close. Silence, I’ve learned, can be far more instructive than engagement.

Coming into a new year, a Fire Horse year, no less, feels right. Fire Horse energy doesn’t tolerate nonsense. It doesn’t linger where it’s unwelcome. It moves forward, even if that means leaving things behind. I feel that shift already. Less patience for noise. More clarity about what matters. A stronger instinct to protect my peace.

So this isn’t a comeback post. There’s nothing to come back from. It’s a continuation, quieter, steadier, and far more intentional than before. I’ll write when it’s true to do so. I’ll speak when there’s something worth saying.

For now, the kettle is on. The fire is banked, not out. The boots are by the door. Still a Dragon. Just needed winter.

Lesson of the Day ~ Granny Frass

“Silence isn’t absence. It’s choosing peace.”

Mae 🧡


Comments

29 responses to “Still a Dragon… Just Needed Winter…”


  1. It’s good to see you posting again, Mae. As always, your words are well worth reading. I’ve missed you!

    1. Thank you so much, Jean; that truly means a lot to me.

      It’s a strange thing, stepping away for a while and then coming back. Part of you wonders if anyone will even notice, so hearing that I was missed lands very gently on the heart. Life just needed my full attention for a time, and I’ve learned not to fight those seasons anymore. But I’m glad to be here again, and even more glad that you’re still here too.
      Thank you for reading, and for staying connected.

      Mae 🧡


  2. What a relief to find this in my email. The winter here across the pond suddenly seems somewhat less miserable. 💖

    1. Ah, Sandy, that’s such a lovely thing to say. Thank you 🧡

      Winter can feel heavy sometimes, especially when the days are long and the light is scarce. But there’s something comforting about knowing we’re all moving through our own seasons at the same time, in different places, with the same human experience. The light does come back. It always does. And until then, we borrow it from each other where we can.

      Sending you a little extra warmth across the pond x

      Mae 🧡

  3. A beautiful way to start my day, and a fitting accompaniment to an unusually grey summer morning in Cape Town.

    1. Hi Lisa-Marie,

      Thank you for reading and your lovely comment.

      Mae 🧡


  4. Yay; your return is welcome, Mae! :D

    1. Thank you 🙏

      Mae 🧡

  5. Joey Jones Avatar
    Joey Jones

    How did I miss this post? Lots of love out here for you.

    1. Hi Joey x, I have missed you, lady!
      Mae 🧡

  6. I feel the same Mae, …less said, soonest mended, …though nothing ‘broke’…just needed clarification, kind of thing, …I chose peace too,… hugs from afar, …and take care my Dragon friend, …well, from one Dragon to another, …I’ll look out for the flame messages in the sky….🔥

    1. Hi Penn,

      Love that x Thank you.

      Mae 🧡

  7. You built my journey here, Mae. I still remember our conversation about calendars. Happy Year of the Fire Horse! So glad to have you back!

    1. Hello, it’s so good to hear from you 😊

      That made me smile. I remember that conversation about calendars, too. Funny how certain moments stay with us, isn’t it? Little crossroads that don’t look like much at the time, but later you realize they nudged something into motion. And thank you, I’m glad to be back too. Sometimes we step away to live, to learn, to fall apart a bit, to rebuild, and then we return with different eyes.

      Happy Year of the Fire Horse to you as well 🔥
      May it bring courage, momentum, and just enough wildness to keep life interesting.

      Mae 🧡

  8. Oh, how I have missed your post. I am so happy to see you back Mae. Nothing compares to peace.

    1. Hi Mags, Thank you x
      Mae 🧡

  9. 🧡

  10. Hi Mae – thanks for passing through. I’ve been the same. A winter of hibernation, reflection, protection and lots of other ‘tions’, Your words ring true as ever, thank you.
    I was pondering on the Fire Horse year when I shot out of the traps, early January… fell at the first furlong and limped back to the stable. A lesson for all, a potential amazing year but hold on tight to the reins!
    Take care,
    Rob 🙏

    1. Hi Rob,

      Ah yes, the winter of many ‘tions’. I know it well. Reflection, protection, re-calibration, and the occasional hibernation that turns out to be exactly what the soul ordered, whether we planned it or not.

      Your Fire Horse image made me smile. There’s something very honest about “shot out of the traps and fell at the first furlong.” I think we’re often taught that a strong start means a guaranteed victory, but life (and horses) don’t work that way. Sometimes the wisdom is in recognizing the stumble early and walking back to the stable before more damage is done. That’s not failure, that’s instinct and self-preservation.

      And you’re right… Years that carry big energy also require steady hands on the reins. Power without pacing can burn us out just as quickly as it lifts us up. It sounds like you’ve taken the lesson, which means you’re already back in motion, just maybe with a wiser seat in the saddle this time.

      Take good care of yourself, too, Rob. The path is rarely straight, but we do keep moving.

      Mae 🧡

      1. Lovely words Mae, beautiful and succinct as ever, you’re such a wonderful writer. 🌟
        Yes, I’ve had a few moments of shying whilst clinging on for dear life but I’m determined to stay in the stirrups.
        Especially as the snowdrops, daffodils, crocuses and primroses have all started to lift their heads whilst the Blue tits and Sparrows peer into nesting boxes, checking whether the last occupants vacated, without putting out their recycling or taking their furniture.

        Unlike the feathery furniture, the garden is shifting and so am I.

        Rob 💜🙏


  11. Welcome back, Ireland!

    1. Thanks Michael 🧡

  12. Hello Mae,
    So glad to see you. Your words resonate with me deeply, especially at this point of my life:
    “Anyone who’s lived through a hard stretch knows this: there are seasons when you don’t narrate your life, you just live it…” Such wise words and so true.
    I think I may also be a dragon too – we have many things in common.
    So yes, continue to focus on you, your friends will always be here.
    Warm wishes from Japan.
    Takami

    1. Hello Takami,

      What a beautiful message to receive, thank you. It means more than you probably realize to know the words landed somewhere real.

      That line you quoted came straight from lived experience, not theory. I think most of us, at some point, discover there are stretches of life where survival itself is the work, and storytelling comes later. Those seasons can feel quiet on the outside, but they’re often where the biggest change happens.

      And I love that you think you might be a dragon too. I suspect there are more of us walking around than anyone knows, people who’ve been through fire, rested in winter, and still kept a spark alive inside. That kind of resilience creates a quiet kinship, even across oceans.

      Sending warmth right back to you in Japan, and a little dragon strength for whatever season you’re in.

      Mae

  13. I’m glad the kettle’s on. And if there’s a winter dragon hiss, so much the better.

    1. Ah now you understand the system perfectly 😄
      The kettle is always on. That’s the rule, and the winter dragon hiss is just part of the atmosphere. Very therapeutic once you get used to it.

      Pull up a chair, warm your hands, and ignore any suspicious smoke… it just means the dragon’s still alive and well.

      You’re always welcome here.

      Mae🧡

      1. Thank you! Chair, warmth, hot kettle, and (other) dragon effects sound great.

  14. Welcome back Mae. You were deeply missed 🧡🧡

    1. Thanks Iba xxx 🧡

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