What It Could Look Like
A cyclical living fantasy that hopefully isn’t that fantastical
The theme of “summer dreaming” for July arrived in my head and then July became not-so dreamy. Interesting, isn’t it? So slipping into pure imagination and grand ideas doesn’t feel like the most natural thing to do right now. But I’ll give it a go…
The question is this: If I could give myself all my cyclical living dreams, what would that look like? How would that change my life? I find these questions hard to answer.
I hold myself back from imagining what my most cyclical life could be because I don’t want to seem dumb. Even inside my own head, I’ll shut this daydreaming down! As if someone is watching. As if letting in fantasy will distract me, or make me less serious, or get my hopes up too much.
So today I’m trying to give myself permission here to consider and vocalize things that may seem ridiculous or far fetched. Because maybe they just seem that way because the world runs by a different model right now. Doesn’t mean it couldn’t change—it has before, it can again.
So here goes.
If I could live fully cyclically for my own self1, the whole shape of my days, weeks, months and years would change. I find myself wondering: how much? How different could it be? How different would it have to be to be fully attuned to the cycles of our world.
I think it could radically change everything.
Maybe I should start with myself and move outward?
My menstrual cycle would be the first, most important guide of my life. During menstruation, I would retreat from the world as much as possible. I wouldn’t schedule any appointments, meetings, events or anything else on these days. The first day, I would cocoon completely. I would probably even sleep on my own, and spend most of the day in quiet. After bleeding and leading to ovulation, that’s when I would do my visiting with friends, parties, appointments, big projects, and other things that require my energy to be high and outward facing. And then during the latter half of the cycle, in the pre-menstrual time, I would prepare for menstruation again, like a chipmunk preparing for winter. This would be freezing meals, making soup, cleaning the house really well, clearly out emails, wrapping up projects. I would take more time to meditate and look inward during this time, with the energy I expend on the outside world being carefully tended. And then I’d do it all again.
This would require me to say no to a lot of things, which means saying yes to others.
In this dream, my work would fit into the structure of my menstrual cycle, not the other way around. My cycle would come first. Even after all the time I’ve spent thinking about the menstrual cycle and living by it, it still feels a little silly to describe this but I think it could happen. I think my ability to create capital—to show up, to answer emails, to meet other people’s expectations, to produce—could come second to the essential pattern of my cycle. Call me crazy, but I think it would do a world of good if I live this out fully.
(Next week I’ll get to what I think the world might look like if more women and folks with menstrual cycles did this. I think it would be amazing.)
I would follow this cycle right up to the end of it, until menopause. I do find myself wondering: what will I do without my cycle? It already guides my life in so many ways already. It seems hard to imagine what it will be like without it. Personally, I don’t find the idea liberating at all. It makes me feel anchorless. I’m grateful I likely have about twenty-five more years of menstruating—that could be several hundred more cycles. With each one I learn so much. So maybe in twenty-five years of engaging with my cycle I’ll have what I need to close that chapter.
The seasons would be the next most integral cycle to guide my life.
The turning of the seasons would mean more to me than national holidays. I would find ways to celebrate the solstices and equinoxes, bringing others into these celebrations whenever possible. I hope I would have parties for each one, but considering my menstrual cycle some of the celebrations might have to be more low key or private, and that’s ok. Move over Christmas—I’m having a solstice/Yule party! It would be heartfelt and full of firelight, then there would be a spring equinox gathering with fresh nettle tea and flowers, a summer solstice party with a long table for many friends, and an autumn equinox feast. Or whatever feels like the right way to honor that season that year, considering where I am in other cycles of life.2
After my menstrual cycle, the season would decide the course of my day.
Food preservation would be a large part of my life. So in this season where I am now—high summer—my days would be guided by the produce in our garden and what I need to do to “put it up.” I’d start my day picking what’s available—kale, cherries, peaches, beets—and processing them. All of this would be done at the coolest part of the day. Other work would come second.
But this would no longer be needed in the winter. Then my mornings might move slower, or that first burst of my energy would be directed elsewhere. Shoveling, perhaps?3
I think overall, I would be living outside much more than I am, particularly in the warmer parts of the year but also in the winter. I think I underestimate how much this could change about my life. This’ll change what I wear, how I eat, what I do with my hair, my skincare, my bodily alignment, how I visit with friends, how I schedule things, and more. But I think it will also help ground me, help me sleep, help be a kinder person.
With the season, comes the circadian cycle. I would wake up with the sun, so my rising would shift with the time of year. Conversely, I would go to bed nearer sunset. I don’t think going to bed around 5pm is going to happen, but perhaps it would be nearer 8:30pm in the winter. And then I’d rise around 7:30am in the winter; 5am in the summer. This will change how long I’m sleeping—yes, there will be more sleep in the winter. So this will also change how much I can do. My hope would be that my whole whole household could be nearer this schedule.
I think living with the circadian rhythm does take a lot of lifestyle shifts, and not just when you get into bed. To live fully this way, I think I’d need to live somewhere that is truly dark.4 Somewhere that doesn’t flood the streets with light pollution so that it’s fully dark at night and I don’t need blackout curtains or an eye mask. The lights in my home would be dim as the sun goes down and all light would be as warm as candlelight. In fact, I would hope there’d be lots of actual candlelight since nothing can beat that. And firelight, weather permitting. There would be no screens as the day darkens, not for any reason. My dream would be that everyone in my household could acclimate their bodies to the circadian rhythm without the use of blue light blocking glasses like we wear now. In this fantasy I’m writing, there would be no blue light to block. We’d only need blocking glasses for our computer work through the day.5
What other cycles might come up? Could there be a cycle of events within my community that I want to attune myself to? What about the cycles of the people within my life? How might that influence me if—say—a friend has painful bleeds and needs a hand at that time each month? Or my husband goes through cycles of creation with his own work and needs support in that. I find the possibility of needing to integrate these cycles within my own cycles, within the cycles of the life and the year, honestly very exciting.6 Then there’s the larger cycle of birth to death—I really haven’t been able to wrap my head around that yet.7
I think my body might also change and shift living this way. It’s interesting to consider how that might affect me. Might I come out of winter a little weightier than when the season started? In spring, how will I deal with my muscles aching from the change of pace and change of labor? Will my body attune to more hours of sleep during the winter or will I find myself restless at night? I think this could all shift my mental health and perception of self.
If we start to homestead or farm, then there will be changes of labor and food through the year. I think something as simple as the chickens8 producing less eggs when it gets colder could alter my days if I allowed it. (And why not allow it to shape me?) I don’t think I can anticipate how eating more seasonally could change things for me through the year—how I cook, how I shop, my digestion, etc.
And, interestingly, my impulse is still to feel that this is a little ridiculous. When will I shake it? Like: no, I don’t have kids, so I wrote this without that knowledge. No, I don’t run a small business or have a high-powered job, so I can’t imagine what that’s like. I can’t fathom all the scenarios. That’s why I hope others will join in this conversation, and dream for themselves what embracing cycles could look like.
I think my discomfort is just the programming provided to me by the modern world living rent free in my head. These are good questions to ask and good new scenarios to imagine. A new model is needed and I think dreaming big could be a stop on the way to getting there.
I’m starting to bring these cycles in where I can—letting them guide my life wherever possible.
And I never expected it to be easy, but I’m struck by how lonely it is right now. This is not the model the world runs on, but I have the privilege of being able to choose a different way. So part of what I dream of too is finding others that align themselves to the cycles as well.
What do you think? If you could fully align with the cycles, how would your life change? 🌀
We’re not assuming here that the whole world lives cyclically, just me. I’ll get to what it would look like if the whole world renovated to a cyclical model next week.
My evangelical upbringing is quite delighted at how pagan this would sound to the folks I knew growing up and how it’s actually just respectful to this world and joy-filled.
If we continue to get snow, which I worry is becoming less common.
I got my eye on a place already…
This feels like one of the most fantastical pieces of this essay and yet it really shouldn’t be. Blue light is harming us so much.
At least, for now I do! I’ll admit this could get a bit overwhelming, but what good work isn’t sometimes?
If you have some thoughts about this—about engaging with ones own mortality essentially—let me know.
And quail! Do quail produce differently through the year? I’ve wanted quails for a while, no matter if they’re practical or not.
This felt like I was reading through a day dream I want to have about my future life and home. How beautiful.
I think about my own mortality more than I would like to admit, since I am still struggling daily with chronic health issues, but I cannot muster the strength to understand my spouse or other loved ones.
I would love to hear about where you dream of living- you have your eye on a place already? Do share so my dream of a future can continue to live on in my head.
I love how you are thinking about all this. It’s so beautiful to live more and more with the seasons - inner and out! I’d recommend Christiana Peterson for more on mortality - her Substack is mystics and misfits (I can’t tag in the comments apparently). This week I started my period and just happened to have planned two very busy days with my kids 🙃 I got to squeeze in a nap one of the days, but I am definitely looking ahead to august to make sure that doesn’t happen again. If I lived in sync with my cycle I would have a full week off - the 2 days leading up to my period, and the 5 days of bleeding - to rest, reflect, journal, snack, go for walks. I wouldn’t clean or cook for myself either! I’d have simple, nourishing food prepared in advance or my spouse would take on those roles for the whole week of the month. Dreamy!