The Art of Wintering
Cloaked in darkness, winter possesses an often-forgotten creative genius
The Art of Wintering
Cloaked in darkness, winter possesses an often-forgotten creative genius. Accessing the wisdom of the barren landscape invites us into the space between letting go of fall and welcoming spring’s seeds of possibility.
Here lies restoration.
Nature knows bypassing rest can compromise our systems. Farmers working with the earth know this truth, as do mamas of tired babes. And we experience a cellular sign of relief upon reclaiming this truth for ourselves. There is an artistry to experiencing the restoration of winter—a passive yet active way about her.
I invite you to the practice of wintering.
With children gathered around, a dear friend and wise woman began circle time by inviting us all to “make silence.” This was the first time I thought of silence as an active process. Noise and movement happen all around us; most of it is unconscious, or a reaction. To counter this, we must invest energy in the other direction—in silence. It can take effort to resist blurting out a word or tapping a restless foot. This is how we “make” silence.
In making silence, we pause.
The active part consists of feeling our body sitting or standing, noticing our breath, softening, and actively participating in the present moment without manipulating it. We enter into the space between the impulse or thought, and the execution of the action. Sustaining this pause can feel like a Herculean effort; especially when there is a trigger. Winter’s invitation is sitting in this pause before we respond or take action.
Winter offers the question, “Is this necessary or more important than restoration?” Pausing in the natural world—our backyard, local greenspace, or an overworked field—can help us discern and reflect on the most nourishing response we can make to nature’s question.
Winter is medicine. Wintering is the receiving of nature’s medicine.
When we “make silence” in the winter landscape, nature guides us to and supports us in experiencing an inner stillness that might be challenging to achieve on our own. While walking through a barren landscape one winter, I became acutely aware of the contrast between the stillness of the woods and an inner turmoil I had been experiencing. This disparity between the outer landscape and my inner emotions highlighted my discomfort and unsettledness.