The Wisdom of Winter: Welcoming in the Solstice

As days become shorter, and the air colder, we are called to naturally retreat into the safe, liminal space that winter provides. Each season offers its own wisdom: creating natural cycles that guide the way plants and animals live and thrive. Winter is the deep call of slowing down, of listening to inner wisdom, and setting ourselves up for the next stage of growth. So many of us dread the shorter and colder days that lull us to slow down and listen. I am becoming increasingly more conscious of the few weeks that lead up to Winter, and how we often bypass these, not looking at the deeper wisdom that the last cold weeks of Autumn have to offer. So often, we skip through beautiful stages of shedding and preparation that our very nature calls within us due to our own impending dread of oh, four months of cold again, huh?

I have found myself for most of my life resisting the cold, resisting the slowing, the waning, the shorter days. I have forced myself through many a winter in a perpetual state of exhaustion and burn out, with a dash of seasonal affect disorder pretending to keep up my usual standards of productivity. Yet this year, something is different. I cannot help but see the way that nature provides a clear message for us to slow down and tend to our nourishment. If this season could speak wisdom from the ages, it would say “tend to the necessities, slow down and nourish yourself”. When I watch the squirrels in the morning scouring for acorns, and the songbirds eating the last berries off of the bushes, I see in them Winter's wisdom of nourishment.

When we subconsciously live outside of the rhythm of the cycles of the Earth, we create dissonance. Our bodies were never intended to resist the tremendous power that is nature. So as we prepare to welcome in another Winter season, we have a choice whether we resist the energy of Winter, or we embrace it and the lessons that it offers.

For me, this Winter Solstice does not mean that we must do more, but rather that we must submit more. We must accept that our inner guidance for productivity and routine may change with the cycle of the seasons and the seasons of our life. So much of our inner growth is dependent on our ability to adapt to the lessons of each season. As we near the tail end of Fall where the trees are bare and we can bear witness to their true form, we must embark on the same mission. We must bear witness to our own true form: both the physical form of how we show up in the world, and our deep inner form that ebbs and flows and holds the wisdom of the seasons.

The Breath Cycle of the Winter

Winter is the season of patience. One of my teachers, Liliana Mejía “Lili Flaming Feather” describes it as the moment between the inhale and the exhale. If you have ever held your breath at the bottom of an exhale, you know the feeling of being utterly empty yet simultaneously sitting on the edge of such abundance in your next inhale. It is a moment of deep release in preparation to welcome in something new and even more expansive.

We are being given a gift right now. Whether we can see it or not, we have the opportunity to work in rhythm with the Winter Season more than probably ever before. As we are asked to socially distance from one another, to avoid public places, to bring our yoga classes into our homes, and to wear masks, we are being forced to retreat closer to ourselves and put necessities. Undeniably, this year of existence has been hard for almost every single human on this planet. Whether you have struggled to maintain steady work through a global pandemic, experienced the loss of a loved one, had concerns over your own health or wellness, felt the trauma of hundreds of years of systemic racism embedded into our nation, or the loneliness, fear, and isolation that creep in through these extraordinary times, we all are being called to winter.

We are approaching the beginning of a winter season like we have never seen before in our lifetime. With many people working from home and our essential workers on the frontline of a global pandemic, we must slow down. In some cases, we have no choice. In others, we are faced with the reality that life outside our doors is not moving at its usual rapid pace. We have reached a reality that is unsustainable, and this winter is the deeply powerful call to reset. In a society where productivity is measured through constantly existing on the brink of stress, it feels unnatural to slow down. It may even feel impossible; yet, within that space of discomfort, there too is healing.

Taking from the lessons of nature, the Winter Solstice and season call upon us to release, fortify, and rest, in that order.

Well first of all, we must release. This is the exhale.

Do not skip over the beauty of the last weeks of Fall. As the trees around you turn bare, admire the journey of the last few leaves remaining on the tree. The superfluous leaves remain in place despite their lack of connection to nutrients and sustenance from within the tree, they hang on tight to the source until all of a sudden a gust of wind or a sudden storm flows through and suddenly they are forced to release. Think of this period in time as the opportunity to observe the last few remaining “leaves” that are no longer serving you. These could be old habits, routines, thought patterns, self-talk, etc. Sometimes, we have to weather a few storms, or some gale force winds to release these, but ultimately they were no longer serving us purpose anyway. This is an opportunity: a call to let go and prepare to hold at empty.

Then we must notice. This is the hold at empty.

Here comes the clarity. Think about how far you can see through the woods in the winter. Without the obstruction of all of the leaves, you can sometimes see for acres; you can observe clearly what really matters. This is not one of those “oh, I see that, now I’m done” types of lessons; it is a daily act of devotion. We are being asked to zoom out to see the whole picture even when that picture is unpleasant, even when it is painful, even when it brings up fear & doubt. Without all of the distractions from our own busyness, we are able to see more clearly the tone and texture of our being. This is the beautiful and sometimes painful journey of greeting yourself exactly as you are.

One of the hidden gifts of this is that we get to look below the surface at what is happening underneath. We can draw our attention away from our endless task of growing outwards and instead turn our attention towards growing inwards. This is the equivalent of a tree spending the winter with the sole mission of gathering sustenance through its roots. Wintering is a vital part of our spiritual growth. We too often become disillusioned by the lack of visible movement or growth in our lives. Sometimes we even feel the bitter chill of the release of our leaves. Yet, how can we reframe Winter as a time in which we root deeper instead of grow taller? It is a time to ensure that your roots are strong enough to keep us holding upright.

We must pause here, in this space of no breath, in this discomfort, in order to call forth the abundance of what-is-yet-to-be. It is here, at empty where the good stuff happens, even when you can’t see it.

Then, we must learn the art of slowing down. Once we embrace the joy of this, we begin to greet the inhale.

We have grown addicted to a lifestyle of productivity that we quantify in ways that are determined by the social norm: i.e. how much we weigh, what we eat, how we dress, our salary or job title. In an interview with Krista Tippet on Becoming Wise, Brene Brown calls this the path to “perfectionism, judgment, exhaustion as a status symbol, productivity as self-worth, cool, what do people think, performing, proving, quest for certainty” (“Courage is Born from Struggle”). Winter challenges this thought pattern. It liberates us from the vortex of needing to achieve, but only if we listen to its wisdom. In the face of a global pandemic, many of us are forced to stop, but even if we stop, do we really listen? Do we make plans for “when this is all over” or spend our days “wishing it was like normal years”?

I realized the other morning while watching the birds eating the last of the berries from the wetlands: animals don’t have time to resist the change of seasons. They respond to their survival, each peck of a berry, an act of gratitude for the energy to last another season. It is not a scarcity mentality of “not being enough” but rather an act of love emanated through sheer will to survive. We must live every day of winter as if it is an act of love emanated through a sheer will to survive, or in other words, love of life. When we find joy in the simplicity, the gratitude in the small acts of comfort that winter affords us, we prepare to greet the inhale. We welcome a new cycle.

This upcoming few weeks offer us powerful opportunities to reflect and connect to the wisdom of the approaching winter season. On December 14th, 2020, we greet a New Moon in Sagittarius to close the last weeks of fall and welcome us into the phase of a new Winter Season. Sagittarius invites us to go deep into our roots to gather sustenance and wisdom. It is a sign that invites a heavy pause as we welcome in the Winter Solstice so that we can zoom out and see the bigger picture at play. It is a new beginning rooted in seeing ourselves more clearly, including all that exists below the surface of our forest floor. We are being called to step into our power to stoke our inner fire that will warm our souls through Winter.