How have these past months felt for you? Perhaps you too identify with being in a wintering season?
Last week, we had the most beautiful sunny day. Crisp air, clear blue skies, sun bathing everything in joyous light.
That might not seem that unusual or noteworthy, but I live in the west of Scotland and we are used to endless months of the grey, the wet, the dreich. Having only a few precious hours of daylight a day from November to February is the norm, and even though I know this, every year the reality of this comes as a shock. I don’t mind the dark nights and very dark early mornings if there is a guarantee of bright daylight for the few hours that the sun is actually on this side of the planet.
But this winter has felt especially long, bleak and dreary. Endless days when artificial light has been required All The Time. Gloomy, cold, brutally somber mornings when the prospect of getting out from under the thick fluffy duvet seems nigh-on impossible.
An internal wintering season.
The day of sunshine last week uplifted my mood so dramatically as to be noteworthy. I commented to MB whilst out for a long walk in the crisp, sunny almost-spring air that it was only realising how much better I felt with the sun that I realised the extent of my wintering gloom without it.
I don’t like the dark nights, like many others. This year has felt especially remorseless with never ending rain and darkness and grey. Meh. But I realise something deeper.
For me, this is an internal wintering season too.
Wintering is a recognised phenomenon, referring to a season of dormancy where energy levels are lower, mood and productivity can drop and our natural rhythms change. It is an invitation to retreat and rest, to stillness and introspection, should we choose to accept it as such.
And that acceptance has been key for me.
Like many of our friends at this age and stage of life, we are sandwiched between elderly parents and the ever-changing needs of grown children who are emerging into adulthood. Jobs are high responsibility and high demand. Our health changes, more bits hurt and physical well-being maintenance takes longer. Menopause can be a fun addition into that mix. Our nest emptied several years ago, and that has brought a huge adjustment that has taken intentional reflection and mental and emotional energy to work through. I have written before about transitions, and all that we can learn from them as we choose to embrace those learnings.
But I also see now that this has been…well…
Hard.
The last couple of years have brought some pretty hefty additional challenges in our household, and it has taken that sunny day for me to see and accept that being in a wintering season is ok.
In fact, more than ok, it is essential.
Accepting that this is a wintering season allows an embracing of all that winter represents. I am learning to notice what my body is telling me, and to slow down and pay attention. To rest in different ways, understanding that energy levels are less than usual and no longer fighting against that. The need to nourish and renew has prompted me to invest in restorative activities for me that include reading, absorbing crafts, reflective writing and any kind of healthy distraction from the noise and busyness that so often takes up needless space in my head.
I am embracing my Scandinavian heritage and having candles lit all over the house, along with multiple sets of fairy lights. Scent, snuggly textures, familiar books that cosset and comfort.
I am tired, and that is ok. That acknowledgement alone is a big deal for me . I have uncomfortable and costly previous experience of ignoring my body’s needs.
If y
ou resonate with any of this, I encourage you to accept that a wintering season might be just what your body is crying out for. Essential work and life commitments notwithstanding, what can you stop doing that allows rest? What can you start doing that prompts and promotes restoration? Where can you withdraw more into a metaphorical cave and simply allow yourself to be?
As Katherine May writes, in her excellent book Wintering:
A great deal of life will always suck. There will be moments when we’re riding high, and moments when we can’t bear to get out of bed. Both are normal. Both, in fact, require a little perspective…the only moment we can depend on is the present: that which we know and sense right now.”
Spring is coming. And like all things, this wintering season too will pass.