Thoughts on Winter – What This Season Asks From Us
Whenever it snows outside we can feel a shift in ourselves. It’s fascinating to me how the cold and some snow triggers our bodies to slow down. We feel a bit absent-minded, harder to focus on math at the table.
It’s been a mild winter but it snowed for the second time, a couple of weeks ago. The ground is frozen and covered with a blanket of white. There isn’t much for us to do in the garden now but to watch it melt slowly and be grateful for some water.
And we ask ourselves: What is this season asking of us?
The Seasons of Life
The subject of the cycle of life in nature is one I’m very interested in. How we are born so tiny, spend many years growing, learning, and enjoying unparalleled levels of energy, become fertile adults who can grow children and harvest the product of their work, and then begin to fade as wise elders. This is our life cycle as humans, but it's easy to compare it with the cycle of just one day, and even a whole year.
Let’s look at what the seasons in one year can feel like for us when we are in tune with this life cycle:
Winter
Let’s start with winter which to me feels like both the beginning and the end. In winter the plants are sleeping and what didn’t survive the frost is dead. Winter is the end of a cycle when nothing is happening but ideas can flow. A plan for the next season, a new chance to start again, to bloom again with the knowledge we acquired the year before.
Spring
In the spring we experience rebirth. In temperate regions, nature buds back with increasing energy, and in our bodies we feel the power of the sun and the warmth and how it propels us forward, outside.
Summer
In the summer energy finds its peak. Food is bountiful, and the opportunities are endless. The fruit of our gardening efforts comes to full bloom and we feel creative and with enough focus and momentum to take action.
Fall
In the fall energies begin to slow down again. The cold air reminds us of our humanity, of our need for protection and cover-up. The days get shorter as we spend more time analyzing the products of our summer efforts. What felt good, what didn’t. How tired are we? The holidays change our focus from productivity to people. To make memories with those we love.
Back to Winter
And then it's winter again. The ground is frozen and covered in snow. The days are short and our energy level is at its lowest. We ask out loud, why is it that we feel so tired?! And without outdoor activities and the early darkness of evenings, we may find ourselves with more time –– less things to do. We may sleep longer, read a book, look out the window, and feel grateful for a warm home. We might spend more time with ideas and dreams, plans for the next cycle, another chance to reinvent ourselves.
I’ve found this cycle so beautiful throughout the years. It has allowed me to overspend my energy in the summer, creating everything I can, enjoying every evening party, and gardening my heart out. Knowing full well that fall is coming to slow me down and invite me to connect with those parts of myself and others I neglected during my productivity. I see fall as a time to look back at what was accomplished and to plan for the next year, for the next chance at doing this beautiful life cycle again.
Of course, this is an idealized way of describing our experience through the seasons. In this capitalist world, productivity is number one, no matter what month of the year. But it’s an invitation to find moments where we feel in sync with these rhythms of nature. An intention to be one with, even if for a little while.
By the time spring rolls around, the months of fall and winter have given me the rest I needed and there is magic in looking forward to the sun again. The gift of living yet another summer in the garden gives my entire year purpose and magical hope.
And while you wait for spring, may I suggest a book I’m currently reading?
The Last Garden in England by Julia Kelly takes you through the seasons as it shares the story of multiple women who, at different times, enjoyed one beautiful garden in England.