What 'Wintering' means to me

I came across the idea of ‘Wintering’ a few years ago. I was given the book ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May. It is her story of walking through difficult times after becoming a mother and losing her own, mixed with undiagnosed neurodivergence.

I was gifted the book when I was in my own winter. My husband had suddenly and unexpectedly died, aged 49. The youngest of my five children was six, and the oldest twenty-one. I was home educating my fourth, who was not coping with school, and then, after our bereavement, my youngest too. I had set up my own business just the previous year, so I could have flexibility to support my daughter. Life was hard.

It felt like winter. Nothing was growing. I had drawn in my roots and stepped away from normal life, from friends, from activity. I needed to, just for a while. It was a retreat in all meanings of the word.

I felt adrift. I had to learn a new way to live, a new rhythm to my days. I decided to ‘doula myself’, to use the approach I employed with birthing families. I encouraged myself to be curious about my thoughts and feelings; to tune into my inner wisdom, to listen to my body, and to find my own path through, without worrying what others might think.

It reminded me of similar feelings and state of mind of the postnatal period with my first child. Adrift, retreated, and exhausted. I was completely off kilter. I didn’t know what day it was, let alone who I was. I felt sad and alone, despairing. I know that will resonate with many of you.

“It is the active acceptance of sadness. It is the practice of allowing ourselves to feel it as a need. It is the courage to stare down the worst parts of our experience and to commit to healing them the best we can. Wintering is a moment of intuition, our true needs felt keenly as a knife."

from ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May

Wintering represents what we do when we are going through dark, cold, hard times in our lives, like bereavement, depression, ill health, being a carer, or even after a big change, such as the birth of a baby. Our resources are limited. We are tired. We can’t do what we used to do. We are in a fog, a liminal winter, apart from the rest of the world, yet living something very real.

We need to draw in our roots, take stock to live in the darkness till it passes, turn in to listen to our inner wisdom, and consider what we need, now, to live in the winter, and for when our winter ends.

Grief is exhausting. I rested, lots. I leaned into the wellbeing tools I used supporting families. I spent time in nature, forest bathing, walking or simply lying in a hammock in the garden. I made and walked labyrinths. I found them a safe, contained space and time to reflect on my grief. While in the labyrinths, I talked to myself, to my late partner, and to the universe, and then I walked out, leaving some of my grief behind. I found yoga nidra particularly useful to help me relax as it fills your mind, rather than emptying it.

This grief time was a gift too. Retreated, as I was, I observed that my body and mind has an annual cycle. I noticed there were months when I was more active, more creative, or more social, and others when I was more introspective. I found I liked to take time, each Winter, to consciously pause and reflect on where I am, and think about the year ahead.

The subtitle of Katherine May’s book is ‘the power of rest and retreat in difficult times’. I can attest to how powerful it is to retreat, rest, relax, and reflect. They are powerful tools, wherever you are in your life journey, whether on an up or a down, whether wintering in your life, or wintering with the season.

“Wintering brings about some of the most profound and insightful moments of our human experience, and wisdom resides in those who have wintered.”

from ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May

Wintering is what nature does to get through the cold, dark months. We are part of nature, though we often forget this. It is normal to slow down, to draw in our roots and hunker down, to be more reflective, in the depth of Winter.

Winter is the turning of the year, moving from the past and into the future. The darkness and cold of Winter is a time to turn in, to reflect, to gather strength and direction. We look back to the events of the past, the ups and downs, the gains and the losses, and contemplate the future. We may consider New Year Resolutions, or intentions for the coming months. It is a common time to start planning for summer holidays, or start new hobbies, or sign up for new courses. Wintering can give you the tools and space to relax into the present, and reflect on the past and the future.

“You are not lazy, Nature is simply pulling you to slow, like the life, flora and fauna around you. It is not your moment to rise.

It is winter, you are wintering. And you are right on time.”

Donna Ashworth

Wintering is for you if you are in a metaphorical winter, or are simply flowing with the seasons, and interested in taking inspiration from nature to pause and reflect on your life.

I shared my Wintering process through a day retreat in January 2020, and an annual online retreat experience, now in its fourth year.

I still use the Wintering tools and process myself, each year. I have been sharing my progress on social media, if you want to check it out. I find it useful to take this time to work through the past and the present, to tune into my inner wisdom, before making intentions and plans for the year. I know then they are more achievable, more aligned with myself, and where I am. The words and phrases that keep coming up become affirmations or reminders I can return to throughout the year.

I’d love to hear about your experience of Wintering, whether through a dark time, or as a turning of the year reflection. What tools help/helped you?

We all deserve rest. We all deserve space and time to pause and think about where we are and where we want to be, and what we need. That is what Wintering is all about.