How do you feel in Winter and what do you make this mean?
Do you have an inner Winter? What does this feel like to you?
As a child, Winter meant magic, play, and discovery, snowball fights, building snowmen, and unexpected snow days. Even now, I can’t resist the wonder of the first snowflake. Am I the only one who still videos snow and sends these to their grown children at ridiculous o’clock? But as I’ve grown older, Winter calls to me in a different way.
I am a Cancerian, so Winter feels like the perfect time to batten down the hatches, pull up the draw bridge, surround myself with family and retreat into the comfort of my shell…I mean home. This is quite literally my heaven. I am a home bird and unapologetically follow my instincts to hunker down and be more intentional with my energy. I eat, I spend time with family, there is always plenty of laughter, and a definite sense that the outside world is…well just that…outside!
Yet, I also crave stillness and quiet. Time spent just being in a world that is so focused on doing. I am drawn to pull back from the business of life, to just slow down and take a breath, reconnect with myself.
I find that while I am generally a sociable person and love people and connecting, I can only be that person if I have this quiet, peaceful time which helps me recentre and recharge. It’s nothing personal, by taking these moments of inner calm and stillness, I can show-up and shine for the rest of the time.
Now maybe some of you don’t feel that same draw to retreat into a shell, or to eat lots of food (I mean it is Winter and a little indulgence never hurt anyone), and perhaps home and family is not your ideal retreat.
Still, I wonder how many of you experience your own call to withdraw and experience your own version of an inner Winter? How does this manifest for you?
And just what might this mean on a journey of growth and transformation?
Contrasts
Winter is about contrasts. For many of us, Winter ushers in frosty mornings and the enchanting promise of snow-draped landscapes. It is the season that embodies a sense of tranquillity and charm, as cold marches in and much of nature retreats into a quiet slumber. The days shorten and the nights lengthen, the rain pelts the windows, the wind howls through the trees while the snow falls silently outside.
Yet, inside is a different world entirely as our homes transform into havens of cosiness. For those lucky enough to have a real hearth in their home, the allure of a roaring fire filling the home with its flickering light and crackling warmth is undeniable. With no actual fire, I only have this image in my imagination, this does not detract from the simple joy of snuggling up under a cosy blanket, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, and diving into a good book or favourite film.
Winter is a time that is about finding solace and joy in the quiet moments, savouring life’s simpler pleasures while we can. But it also asks us to remember playfulness, wonder, curiosity, and magic. Winter invites us to embrace contrast and to value the gift of each moment whether in childlike wonder or with peace and serenity. If we made space to just listen, what magic might reveal itself from the whisperings of our heart and soul? What wisdom might we hold locked deep inside?
Working with the contrasts of this season you might ask:
Where in myself or my life am I still pushing when I may need to rest?
Where in my life would I benefit from more curiosity and childlike wonder?
How might I better appreciate the present moment?
The quiet retreat
The quiet moments we seek are often hardest to embrace, especially by those closest to us, let alone the wider world. As I noted in my Autumn article, the fast pace of life[1] and constant demands can clash sharply with the deep need for stillness that comes with an inner Winter.
The expectations to socialise particularly around family and cultural celebrations, to ‘do the rounds’ with family and friends, or even to ‘make it special’, can seek to challenge any desire to withdraw. This can be accompanied by self and external judgements and disparaging remarks about not being fun, being boring, antisocial, or even selfish.
Essentially, the world says keep going and yet our cyclical natures say wait, slow down, take a breath and rest. The world calls us to come to the party and Winter asks us to travel within and spend time with ourselves. Although being with ourselves can, for some, be uncomfortable and disconcerting, what if we don’t get on?
We live in a world, particularly in the West, where working, connecting and manifesting goals is the priority. Being human doings rather than human beings is how we get on in the world and we all know the goal is to get on[2]. Yet, often in striving constantly for the next thing, milestone, job, goal, or achievement, we miss the treasures that can be found in stillness, in the quiet, in renewal, and rebirth.
Winter is considered a season for receiving. New information, ideas, dreams for the future, new insights about ourselves, and our lives. By pausing to rest and reflect, we allow lessons to settle and integrate, creating a foundation for growth and transformation. By pausing to listen and to dream, insights and wisdom from our inner world can emerge.
Winter drives us inward, offering an opportunity to metaphorically go to ground and to step off the rat race. Without the distractions that can appear in other seasons, Winter quiets the perpetual ‘noise’ around us, inviting opportunities for reflection and introspection. Bolaki[3] sees Winter as a time for radical self-care and reconnection with ourselves with no judgement but with self-compassion. This inward focus brings balance, harmony, self-awareness and self-acceptance.
When reconnecting with yourself this Winter you might ask:
What simple steps could I take this Winter for self-care?
What dreams do I wish to take forward into Spring?
If I were to listen to the whispers of my heart, what would it say?
What do I yearn for?
Wintering
Winter, in nature, is a time where everything that is not essential is stripped away to conserve and gather energy, ensuring survival. For us, the notion of stripping away what is no longer needed and psychologically and emotionally preparing ourselves to survive more lean and turbulent conditions, is what May[4] calls Wintering.
Now, while it may be in our nature to defer or avoid Wintering, Hagan[5] says, “the harshness of Winter prepares us for the creativity and light of Spring and Summer”. And May observes that authentic wisdom is only really available to those that have Wintered[6]. This implies that growth and transformation emerges when we endure challenge and strengthen our roots.
Yet, understanding that we may find lessons to be learned within Wintering, does not buy into platitudes about resilience or silver line the impact of any pain, loneliness, suffering, or struggle. Instead, Wintering invites us to live through and transform the worst parts of our experiences so that we might heal them as best we can.
I always liken this to the metaphor of the caterpillar and the chrysalis. The metamorphosis of the caterpillar is not likely to be comfortable. Nor can it be short-circuited. And perhaps the caterpillar has no notion of the transformation that is occurring. However, the process occurring within the chrysalis is an essential step towards becoming the butterfly.
When navigating your own form of Wintering you might ask:
If I strip away everything that no longer serves me, who am I really at the core of my being and what do I make this mean?
What or who do I rely on in leaner times to support my journey?
What seeds have I planted for rebirth in Spring?
What have I learned this year and what am I making this mean?
Return of the light
Winter has long been a season steeped in the metaphors of light and dark[7]. As the days grow shorter and nights stretch longer, the darkness seems to creep in as swiftly as the cold. For centuries, Winter has been a season for gathering. It is marked by festivals that, while different, all in some way celebrate pushing back the shadows and the return of light (or sun) - Winter Solstice[8], Yule[9] , Dongzhi[10], Hanukkah[11], St Lucia’s Day[12], or Yalda[13], to mention just a few.
The word solstice is derived from the “standing of the sun”[14], and Winter solstice traditionally, was the time where our ancestors feared the sun may not return. It was like the sun paused in the sky and everyone held their breath; a moment in time when anything was possible.
However, what happens when this pausing of the light is within ourselves? When our lives seem dark or our shadow self rises up and we are not yet sure what will happen. We too hold our breath in a moment that is pregnant with possibility, as we watch and wait for the light to return.
It seems as humans, we are driven to look for purpose in darkness, to rekindle warmth in the bleakest moments and to draw hope and joy from quiet stillness. Winter was, and still is, a time to reaffirm the interconnection with the Earth and our belief in our ability to manifest the light.
With the return of the sun and the longer days, there is a return to pure potential both in nature and within ourselves. Winter invites us to consider that even with the smallest move towards light, profound change is possible. But, while we pause in this space in-between light and dark, we have to decide what stays and what goes, what dies off and what is renewed.
To work with the gift of Winter and to explore your own light and dark spaces you might ask:
What parts of myself feel like they are in darkness?
What or who supports warmth, hope and joy in my life?
Where is the light in my life now?
How can I nourish the light and shadow, in myself and my life to transform and grow?
Baby it’s cold outside
Seasonal psychology is still very much undervalued and not always fully understood[15]. However, understanding our own nature and how seasonal cycles manifest within us can help us to embrace change and transformation. When we act in harmony with the energy of each season, we approach ourselves and our lives with greater self-awareness and self-compassion, rather than with resistance and conflict.
It is often colloquially said, fisherman know when to go to sea and when to stay at home and mend their nets, farmers know which seasons to plough plant and harvest, and when to allow fields to rest and become fallow. We cannot help but constantly move through cycles and seasons, each with their own flavour, purpose, gifts, and challenges. When we align and cooperate with them, we open up deeper possibilities for growth, renewal, and rebirth.
As my own inner Winter calls, I wonder how many of you plan to join me in going within and listening to your own inner whispers, and dreaming for Spring.
What if you made space to embrace the gifts and challenges of Winter, what would this look like within yourself, your work and your life? And what would you make this mean?
Winter comes on silent feet
Drawing darkness in
The colder longer days increase
With each revolving spin
I will not fight the shorter hours
Ignoring Nature’s call
Instead, I’ll slow my hectic pace
And rest as Winter falls
The night invites me to my sleep
The dawn is slow to come
I slow my pace and calm my pulse
And march to Nature’s drum
(Author unknown)
If you would like support through your Wintering, or with any other aspect of your transformational journey, then I would love to hear from you.
As a coach at Curiously-U, I actively encourage you to be curious, to wonder and to explore your inner landscape. If you want to find out more, lets connect.
References
[1] Rosa, H. (2020) The uncontrollability of the world. Polity Press.
[2] Rosa, H. (2020) The uncontrollability of the world. Polity Press.
[3] Bolaki, S. (2023) ‘Katherine May's Wintering and the Care of the Self’, Life writing, 20(2), pp. 311–328.
[4] May, K. (2020) ‘Wintering: The power of rest and retreat in difficult times’. :Ebury Publishing
[5] Hagan, M.K. (2010) ‘Winter Solstice Celebration’, Furrow, 61(3), pp. 185–188
[6] May, K. (2020) ‘Wintering: The power of rest and retreat in difficult times’. :Ebury Publishing
[7] Hagan, M.K. (2010) ‘Winter Solstice Celebration’, Furrow, 61(3), pp. 185–188.
[8] New World Encyclopaedia, (n.d) Solstice. Available at: https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Solstice (Accessed: 3rd December 2024).
[9] Eldridge, A. (n.d) Yule. Available at: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Yule-festival (Accessed: 3rd December 2024)
[10] Eldridge, A. (n.d.) 7 Winter Solstice Celebrations from Around the World. Available at: https://www.britannica.com/list/10-best-sports-rivalries-of-all-time (Accessed: 3rd December 2024).
[11] New World Encyclopaedia (n.d). Hanukkah. Available at; https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Hanukkah (Accessed: 3rd December 2024).
[12] Eldridge, A. (n.d.) 7 Winter Solstice Celebrations from Around the World. Available at: https://www.britannica.com/list/10-best-sports-rivalries-of-all-time (Accessed: 3rd December 2024).
[13] Eldridge, A. (n.d.) 7 Winter Solstice Celebrations from Around the World. Available at: https://www.britannica.com/list/10-best-sports-rivalries-of-all-time (Accessed: 3rd December 2024).
[14] Hagan, M.K. (2010) ‘Winter Solstice Celebration’, Furrow, 61(3), pp. 185–188.
[15] Hohm, I. et al. (2024) ‘Homo temporus: Seasonal Cycles as a Fundamental Source of Variation in Human Psychology’, Perspectives on psychological science, 19(1), pp. 151–172.
Comments