In Need of Winter

Sometimes in life we need a winter season, a time of lying low and resting from our busyness. Perhaps we’ve been going through a time when more has been required of us than we feel able to continue doing. The pace is unsustainable. We feel on the verge of caving in beneath life’s pressures. We can no longer keep up with the demands without something breaking.

Summertime brings relentless heat that can cause an overgrowth of vines winding in and among all the good plants and shrubs, crowding healthy spaces, and strangling branches with their tentacles. In a similar way, we can become victims of overproduction and the commitments that creep into our schedules. Like the earth, we were not created to sustain this level of heat and overgrowth. Like the earth, we need to follow a cycle that includes rest in order to restore balance. We need a season of dormancy and diapause much like that of the creatures and growing things of the earth. We need to allow ourselves the grace of entering a winter season. Rest, stillness, silence, and solitude - these are rhythms that will heal frazzled emotions, restore a sense of purpose, and bring us back into alignment mentally and physically.

The garden of winter submits to the rhythm of nature. Leaves become brittle, blossoms expose seedheads, fruit drops to the ground, and dead leaves gather around the feet of shrubs and plants, putting to bed roots, seeds, and bulbs.  On the surface living things lose color, turning brown and dry. Branches and stems are stripped of leaves, berries, and fruit, reducing the load they must carry. They are unburdened for a time. When the growing process slows and even stops, stress is reduced and energy is conserved as life switches to sabbath mode. On the surface winter appears dead and barren, but in this bleakness something very important is happening. Resilience is being restored, enabling living things to build up the reserves needed to adjust. As growth ceases above ground, roots are continuing to spread, growing deeper and stronger and more secure. In the unseen world beneath the soil, nourishment is packed away in the roots, like a pantry being restocked for a busier season. Seeds that have fallen to the ground snuggle in the embrace of leafy detritus, their hard shells gradually broken down by persistent microbes, like love exposing the heart over time to its true purpose. The seed softens, ready for the warmth of sunshine and spring rains to coax forth germinating tendrils, tiny green hands reaching for the light.

If any of these reflections resonate with you, if you find your soul among these images, then consider learning to imitate nature’s pattern. We humans must intentionally choose to follow restorative rhythms as they are not necessarily imposed on us. In the midst of our progressive culture, we must find ways to slow down and rest. We choose to winter in order to heal and restore.

One way we can do this is a planned solitary retreat each week. Including this practice can be challenging when time is scarce.  We need to start with baby steps like an hour, then an afternoon, working up to a whole day. If this is a new endeavor for you, carve out a small part of your schedule once a week for downtime. This time belongs to you. It is an important commitment to self-care. This weekly rhythm is essential for our mental and spiritual health. Below are a few suggestions for self-care practices during the wintertime.

Winter Practices for Self-Care:

• If you only have an hour and you have a birdfeeder in your yard, sit where you can quietly watch the birds visiting your feeders. There’s something deeply restful and delightful in watching birds, and an hour of doing so will refresh you.

• If you can’t get an hour to yourself until after dark, bundle up, grab an afghan, and sit outside on a lawnchair gazing up at the moon and stars twinkling through the naked tree branches. After an hour of engaging in this majestic perspective, worries are often reduced and emotions soothed and balanced.

• If you have an afternoon, find a winter garden either in your own yard or community where you can sit quietly observing the unique beauty found in dormant plants, dry seedheads, and exposed birds’ nests. Notice how nature takes a break. Give yourself permission to do so too.

• If you have a whole day, do two or three things throughout the day that have proven to be restorative for you. Have an easy, comforting meal, like soup and bread. Go for a winter walk. When you return, have a mug of something hot. Sit by the fire. Listen to your favorite relaxing music. The key to planning a self-care day is to know what restores you and plan on doing only a couple of those things.

“O that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest; truly, I would flee far away; I would lodge in the wilderness; I would hurry to find shelter for myself from the raging wind and tempest.” -Psalm 55:6-8

by Heather J. Willis, author