Wintering
A seasonal invitation to listen in to your needs over wants and desires
Why is it that as soon as Fireworks Night is over, the incessant pressure of the Christmas season begins? In our consumer-driven culture, there ‘has to’ be a progression of reasons to buy stuff ‘in celebration’ throughout the year; from national holidays to Valentine’s, Mothers’/Fathers’ days, an ever-expanding lexicon of international days of…, with Christmas as the literal star on top of the buy-more tree – it’s all about endlessly striving for growth, after all.
I’m not being Scroogy here; gift-giving often brings joy and connection, with a history that spans back through time; from the revelry of the Roman Saturnalian festival in December, and of course, those three biblical ‘wise’ men bearing age-inappropriate gifts for a Baby, to the medieval exchanging of home-made goods to cement community bonds. But, arguably, we’ve lost the plot a little around Christmas, which arrives just after the darkest day, the Winter Solstice.
At this cold, dark time, nature is wintering. The trees have lost their leaves and energy is drawn down into the roots. Many animals hibernate, preserving energy. Yet our culture has us rushing and striving to finish deadlines before the holidays, buy ever-more ‘perfect’ presents for everyone we know, fill our diaries with ‘must see you around Christmas’es and parties, tinsel cheer all round at a time when your body is most probably fighting off seasonal immunity-busters and you’re tired.
We’re also primally wired to fear the quiet darkness of Winter, as if we still might not make it through (even though we no longer live in caves). The festivals we see in many cultures about bringing light into the darkness are great for a boost of cheer, but we no longer have to finish off all the food before it goes off and we mostly have consistent lighting and warmth.
So why is it so hard to winter? To allow yourself to drop down into the more liminal space of ‘nothingness’. This is a time where you might notice and reflectovely listen in to your needs and recognise when you are swayed by either your own or others’ wants and desires.
You might meditatively S.E.R.V.E yourself first:
S: Shifting; or the change in pace from hyperproductivity. It is essential to allow fallow time for healing and renewal. Here, you might notice the conditioned mind that comes from a dominant cultural narrative that celebrates endless doing. How prevalent is that voice for you?
Q: Do you endlessly resist the pause? Feel guilt or shame about stopping?
You might practice noticing and meeting any resistance to the energetic changes of Winter with kindness. This time to rest and heal is not simply allowed but essential for the metaphorical new leaves of Spring and the fruits of Summer to evolve.
E: Embracing; the darker times – whether that’s seasonal or times of life where you might winter, when you meet difficulty or challenges that make you ‘pause’. Both the time of monthly bleeding and menopause can be correlated to this Winter Season. A time to be still and dream rather than do or create.
Q: Do you tend to wait until you get ill and your body stops you in its tracks before you allow yourself this pause?
Practically, you might feel into this liminality of this pause by noticing the emptiness at the end of a deep exhale before the breath comes in. Feel how it is physically, deep in your lungs and belly to be emptied.
R: Resourcing; going into your metaphorical cave requires a degree of planning and gathering, like a squirrel with nuts.
Q: What do you need to be able to rest and heal?
Make a list of any practices that you already have or might add to our toolbox of rest.
V: Validating: notice compassionately that you have likely been conditioned by grind culture to celebrate your own worth linked to your capacity to endlessly do. You do not need permission to listen to and respect your body’s need to rest and heal. Ironically, you can actually be more ‘productive’ if you allow yourself this time as you need.
Q: What brings you a sense of validation: is it tied in to others’ perception of you being ‘capable’, ‘hard-working’, etc?
Practising any gentle movement, even walking attentively, can you notice parts of you that are seeking to ‘do it right’ or please others (perhaps the teacher, others in the space or who you are with? You might gently notice where you seek approval or validation and every time you feel this pull outside of your own experience, bring your attention instead to subtle feelings in your breath and/or body. Simply enquire without judgement. Practice letting go of and want to ‘succeed', in whatever respect, and be in the moment with what is.
E: Ending: Winter is a time of death – much in nature withers, falls away. This may evoke fear, aversion, grief, but is part of the cycle of life, death and renewal.
Q: How to you cope with endings? Do you find you cling, or are attached to things/people staying the same?
Bring attention to smaller things that naturally come to an end and savour the last moment, seeing if you can let go with grace. That might be the last bite of a meal or sip of tea, the end of an enjoyable event, the moment when Savasana fininshes in a yoga class or the end of the inhale, then the exhale. Mentally note “This is ending”. Notice with each of these if any part of your body is holding on, tense or tight? What might this ending make space for?
In the next newsletter, we’ll delve in to how to sit with the quiet discomfort of the liminal space of Winter as we move towards the Solstice.
Let me know how you find the practices and prompts and don’t forget to subscribe,
Gentle wintering, folks,
Leo xxx

