Being Well in the Heart of Winter

Hello, Friends. I had several topics as potential posts, then this beautiful article on winter popped up from Sebene Selassie, one of my favorite dharma teachers. It’s too lovely not to share. People have such complex relationships to seasons, the weather, and especially and understandably to change. I used to dread winter, too. The bare trees looked like mean skeletons, and I feared for those last few leafy days in November. The gray skies and early darkness in both morning and evening felt bleak. I honestly haven’t felt like that in years, and I noted my change in attitude with relief and wonder. It felt hopeful that I had the ability, as guided by my inner experience, to relate completely differently to outward experiences. ‘‘Twas a major aha moment; it’s not the weather, the time, the calendar, etc that determines my state of being. For so long, “change” as a concept felt unattainable because I felt stuck. Therefore, beginning to organically lean into change, as represented by the seasons, filled me with aliveness and the promise of fresh perspective. What Sebene writes here makes perfect sense. We are animals, we are nature. We aren’t meant to act and live the same way 365 days a year. Different seasons invite us to relate to life differently; when we resist that and throw out Nature’s invitations, this puts us off balance. Perhaps consider reframing Winter, its meaning, and how you cooperate with its offerings. Think about it, if Spring Break were all year we’d… break. Winter, as I came to see it, was magical in its own way and I was finally taking off my blinders enough to join this period of hibernation, warmth from the inside, patience, rest, and inner fortification. We aren’t robots, we aren’t iPhones; we use these things until they begin to use us. Our essence is of animal nature, so rest and stillness is key for survival. I hope you enjoy this article as I did, and you can sign up for Sebene Selassie’s newsletter through her Instagram of the same name. Her book You Belong is fantastic, I highly recommend it.

Being Well in the Heart of Winter

I first heard the phrase holiday heart from an otherwise very healthy friend who experienced a cardiac emergency a few Decembers ago. The term refers to the increase in heart conditions linked to the seasonal consumption of alcohol, salt, and fat (as well as the end-of-year stress related to family, money, and work). It makes this time of year not only most wonderful, but also most deadly. Number one day for most fatal heart attacks: December 25th. Second: December 26th. Third: January 1st.

"Wintering" is a term from Katherine May (see below) that promotes a conscious relationship to the season. Wintering invites us to be more in tune with the rhythms of nature, of our nature.

We are nature. We are animals. As other animals and all of nature pause and replenish during this time of year, it is only us humans that demand of ourselves and each other to be active (and actively festive) when maybe what is most needed is rest and retreat.

I used to dread winter. But when I follow the cycles of light and energy around me, mimic the animals, and honor my deepest instincts (keeping lights low when it is dark outside, basking in the light that does appear – including aided by lamps, doing less, sleeping more, warming myself with nourishing baths, food, herbs), I can feel very well in winter.

Wintering is the true heart of the holiday season.

For those of us in the northern hemisphere: May we find synchronicity with winter – not simply to endure this season – but to learn from it, receive its gifts, and thrive in its wonders. May we be well in the heart of winter.

Artist Sophie Lucido Johnson's post beautifully captures our animal need for more rest in winter and the compassion we can bring into the darkness. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand times: it’s hard to be a good animal when you are a human living inside capitalist systems of oppression. We have confusing inventions like electricity and Red Bull that make it seem like winter is NOT a time where our bodies need to sleep more and eat more and socialize less... January 1 should be when everyone reaches peak hibernation.”

A variety of balancing foods and herbs support me in winter. I don't eat or drink cold things at this time of year, and I lean into teas and tinctures that support deep rest. Slathering my body (and especially my feet) with sunshine in a bottle is a nightly ritual. (And if you are as obsessed with the magic of body oiling much as I am, may I recommend this and this). Also, baths. Also, naps.

Frederic is half Danish but I'd been traveling to Denmark for a decade before I met him, so my knowledge of hygge goes back over twenty years. Hygge is a whole vibe seemingly built around the Scandinavian adaptation to intense winter darkness. Often described as “coziness,” hygge is referenced year round in Denmark but invites a special synchronicity with winter. Warmth in the form of lighting is key – that's why Danish lamp designs are so iconic (also, Danes burn a LOT of candles which can be toxic – I only use cleanburning beeswax candles from here). Warmth extends to comfy clothing (I learned how to dress properly in winter from Scandinavians), beautiful surroundings (again, Danish design!), conviviality (I've been doing lots of audio-only phone calls and loving it over zooming), and anything else that adds to a sense of contentment.

Katherine May spoke to Krista Tippet about her book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times and what she shares goes beyond the literal season, applicable to all times personal and collective (including our current one) when the need for pause and replenishment must be honored. “Not that you would wish for it or wish this thing for anything else, but… ‘They are asking something of us,’ our winterings. ‘We must learn to invite them in’ and to stop wishing it were summer… that is really the hardest thing to believe, when you’re in the midst of that dark place, is that there is a summer on the other side of this; that there can be.”

The winter solstice is near. Since ancient times, humans have celebrated the shortest day of the year with rituals and monuments honoring the returning light. Nancy Holt built her massive Sun Tunnels in 1976 as a physical manifestation of this cosmic occurrence.

I've come to understand so much about the elemental nature of the seasons through my dear friend Lindsay Fauntleroy (whose forthcoming book on the five elements I'm so thrilled about). It's from Lindsay I first learned that winter is signified by the most yin element, water. Winter invites us into the deep, still, fully receptive nature of our being. As she succinctly states: Water invites us to surrender... to allow transformation... and to get out of the way.

My favorite winter album is Brian Eno's Thursday Afternoon. Its gentleness does not compete with the stillness of the season. I find it resonant anytime of day, but, despite the name, especially when I rise, with above mentioned candles burning, drinking my matcha, as I do morning pages (another nice seasonal vibe).