What I read: January 2025 edition
Wintering and other learnings.
Knowing your people leads to knowing yourself. And that’s what I’m trying to invest in this year. I started 2025 with quite a few Nordic reads. Maybe it was the bone-chilling temperatures; we spent several weeks below freezing and did have one good snow. So perhaps it was the hygge vibes, and maybe it was just the annual call to “Wintering” that
speaks of so aptly in her book of the same name. A book I read two years ago that I continue to return to its pages and its wisdom.
Katherine May writes that leaning into the winter season, but more importantly, our personal winters can be the greatest gift. We live in a world of relentless achievement, but her work reminds us that though we do not get to choose the winter that comes to us, “But we do choose how.” Rather than expending so much effort forever deferring winter’s onset, May offers another way: let it come. I am in a personal winter of my own, and I am realizing this same beautiful and impossibly hard truth; there is nothing to do but let it happen. But oh—how this relieves the pressure and anxiety and bluster—of the fight. This is twin surrender and hope. A hope that I will “witness to the full glory of nature’s flourishing in lean times.”
I am forever grateful for this book, and it always seems to return to my mind just when I need the reminder to “step into solitude and contemplation, a call to make ready” for whatever is to come.
On to January’s reads, which were very much in line with “wintering.” This month, my reading journey included:
Returning to an old, beloved series
Exploring a remote island near the North Pole
Being encouraged by the female mystics
Learning about the land where sagas were born
The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
When I’m wintering, I often find a tug toward the familiar books of my childhood. This personal winter has been no different, and I’ve gone through all of the audiobooks of the Narnia series from the library. They average about 4-5 hour listens, and they are narrated by wonderful British actors, such as Kenneth Branagh, Alex Jennings, and Jeremy Northam. There are so many beautiful scenes in these novels,
from Aslan awakening Narnia for the first time in The Magician’s Nephew
to the journey to the end of the world in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,
from Mr. Tumnus with his umbrella by the lampost in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe
to the reminder in The Last Battle that there is a time when “nothing remains but to take the adventure that Aslan sends us.”
I have loved rereading these, and now I’ve begun reading them aloud to my daughter before bed, which has brought me no end of joy as she wonders and wanders through the lands of Narnia for the very first time.
Life on Svalbard: Finding Home on a Remote Island Near the North Pole by Cecilia Blomdahl
This read was a fascinating account of the impossibly hard and beautiful life in Longyearbyen, Svalbard—the world’s northernmost town. From the depths of darkness during the polar night season to the glorious pinks and purples of pastel winter when the sun begins to return, Blomdahl takes the reader on a journey full of glorious photography as she documents the life she has chosen: a land where the Aurora Borealis is the only light for four months, glaciers hold the memories of thousands of years (though some glaciers in the Arctic are as old as 20 million years, those in Svalbard are much younger), and residents must be on alert for polar bears.
I continue to be amazed at the studies that come out showing the benefits of the polar plunge, and Blomdahl cites a Finnish study that shows that cold water bathing can enhance memory, reduce tension, and boost energy levels by temporarily altering blood circulation patterns. It is such an excellent bodily reset; in fact, Katherine May speaks about Channel swimming similarly. I maintain this practice myself, and I find it to be such a helpful tool in my toolkit for mental health (and great skin!).
Blomdahl documents the annual festival that welcomes Santa Claus back to the North Pole, the beauty of the pastel winter, Norwegian cabin culture, the honoring of the last sunset during the transition to sunshine around the clock, and summer boating season (which looks a bit different than that of Knoxville).
If you love beautiful photography, superb storytelling, and adventures in far-off places, this read is one for you!
The Mystics Would Like a Word: Six Women Who Met God and Found a Spirituality for Today by Shannon K. Evans
hits right at the heart of it…again! I wrote about her Rewilding Motherhood as one of my top reads of 2024, and this may end up at the top for 2025.This lady brought her receipts (including in-depth primary and secondary source research) to the table and beckoned these women out of their cloisters and into today’s world.
I’ve always been fascinated by the mystics, but always in a “hey, y’all are a little weird…and I’m here for it” way. This book took me so much deeper into their lives and writings, and each of them has changed me. Truly.
Evans zooms in on six female mystics: Hildegard of Bingen, Julian of Norwich, Catherine of Siena, Theresa of Ávila, Margery Kempe, and Thérèse of Lisieux, showing a genuinely gorgeous marriage of embodied faith and action rooted in a contemplative space. I underlined so much of this book that I had to change pens more than once!
I loved it and I want to dig further into the world of these weird sisters. Thank you, SKE, for being right on time again with another wonderful read! Highly, highly recommend! 🤍
Saga Land: The Island of Stories at the Edge of the World by Richard Fidler and Kári Gíslason
This book taught me so much. I had no idea about the history of sagas and their tie to Iceland.
Two Aussies—one academician and one radio host—take two road trips through Iceland (one in summer and one in winter), recording a podcast about Icelandic sagas. This book is the written backdrop to these stories, alternating chapters between Kári and Richard, of the history and the beauty of this land—which I absolutely fell in love with.
The world’s actual first democratic republic (sorry, America, Iceland beat you out by about 1,000 years), Iceland’s chieftains worked together to create a society where anyone could raise a concern to their chieftain. They would bring it to the assembly at Allthing (that took place on the backdrop of a gorgeous fjord…see the picture below, and you’ll be inspired by democracy’s potential all over again). Over a thousand years ago, they voted on a set of governing principles and set up a brand new form of government.
But back to these two authors…
Kári Gíslason’s ties to the country are clear; he grew up in Iceland. But it is a complex history. He was the product of an extramarital affair, so his father never fully accepted his existence. Living in the same town as a father who wouldn’t acknowledge him was immensely wounding, but when he and his mother move to England later, Kári doesn’t let this taint his love of Iceland.
Home to some of the most impressive and detailed genealogical records, Icelanders can trace their roots to the actual characters in the sagas. Part of this story is Kári seeking out his roots and potential relations to one of the most famous saga-tellers, Snorri Sturluson.
Tolkien believed the Icelandic sagas were more important than Shakespearean dramas, so it’s incredible to me that I’d never come across these characters outside of Norse mythology (and even that is primarily influenced by Marvel). It’s easy to see the roots of the world of men in Lord of the Rings. These stories center on Viking concepts of honor, and the characters are bound by it, even and often to their own destruction of the destruction of those they love. While at once absurd and violent, the sagas also elevate the role and importance of women in a way that was genuinely uncommon at that time.
I fell in love with this land, its rugged terrain, the impossibility of life there and yet how 200,000 people do it anyway and have for a thousand years.
This was such a great read and made me want to hop on the first plane to Reykjavík.
I hope if you, too, are experiencing a personal winter, you can find solace in simply letting it come—and knowing you are not alone. And maybe some of these reads will be an encouragement to you as they have been to me.
That’s all there is for this January reads list. Thank you for joining me here for another month, dear readers! And a special thanks to those who have been here with me during this first year on Substack. Happy Birthday to RSM Reads!
From my shelves to yours,
-RSM