Living in a place where winter is long, brutal, and unforgiving has forced me to come to terms with my own darkness
I live in a place where winter dominates. It’s cold and windy for much of the year. The altitude is high and the air is dry.
I remember watching Halloween movies when I was young and being so confused as to how those kids could trick-or-treat without a jacket. So many of my favorite costumes were covered up by snow pants, boots, hats, and mittens.
And Christmas…what’s with all these songs about wishing for snow at Christmas? I had never seen a Christmas without snow. What would that even look like? Weird.
Don’t even get me started about Spring. Spring is worse than winter because it’s a relentless tease. One nice day in April and you get knocked back to reality with a blizzard in May.
All this to say, I have spent most of my life nurturing a disdain for winter. Too many freezing cold softball games and canceled road trips tainted my perception of this long and relentless season.
That is until I learned to stop resisting winter and embrace the healing darkness it provides.
A few years ago, I started to work with the moon as a daily self-care practice. I didn’t recognize how much this simple act would influence my worldview and reconnect me to nature. It inspired me to live life in cycles, and ultimately make peace with winter.
I don’t even remember what motivated me to start tracking the moon, but paying attention to her phases opened up a whole new appreciation for the cycles that are occurring naturally all around me.
Life is cyclical, not a constant linear projection of increased output. Winter is necessary for the regeneration that happens in Spring.
Somehow I found more compassion for myself through observing nature. Everything that occurs naturally ebbs and flows in symphonic resonance. Day and night come and go. The Earth rotates through seasons of light and dark. Plants bloom and then go dormant.
The trees do not seem to mourn the loss of their foliage. It feels more like a celebration of growth. How beautiful that the leaves turn brilliant shades of orange and yellow before they fall?
Wildflowers are not always in bloom. The stars are not constantly shining.
Wasn’t I a natural being, after all? Maybe it was ok for me to rest too?
Making peace with Winter
I definitely wouldn’t say that I love Winter. I wouldn’t even say that I like it all that much. I do, however, accept it and I have made peace with it.
Winter and I have a tenuous relationship. I have come to appreciate the beauty of freshly fallen snow. The kind that comes straight down in fat, fluffy flakes. Not the kind that comes in sideways, blinds you and feels like sand pelting your face. I will never appreciate that kind.
When the weather is relatively calm, I relish the peace and solitude that comes to me when I walk my dog in winter. Especially early in the morning. There are not many other folks around. The park is quiet. Snow has a way of muffling everything, making the energy feel soft. It's really quite beautiful.
I love watching my goofy and rambunctious doodle run through the drifts. I marvel at the size of his giant paw prints in the snow. I adored the way his black curly coat looks when it is lightly dusted with white. It almost looks like powdered sugar.
When we arrive back home, after the fog has dissipated from my glasses and I can see again, I love the way my skin looks. I appreciate the flushed and tight feeling on my face. My freckles pop.
I pour a cup of hot coffee and I thaw. Nothing compares to a warm shower after a winter walk. The water that starts at my head is already cooled by my still freezing skin by the time it runs down my legs. I notice the gradual shift in my body as I start to warm up.
This is pleasure. The gift of winter is that it allows me to be in my body. It reminds me how grateful I am for the small comforts and luxuries that I have around me. These things seem like they are easier to take for granted when the weather is warm.
The Healing Power of Darkness
Most of all, I love a good excuse to stay home. No one wants to go anywhere when the wind is howling, it’s dark, and it’s 10 degrees below zero.
When it gets dark early, I love the coziness of my house and the company of the people inside. I love my journal, my sketchbook, my tarot cards, and my thick fuzzy socks.
Darkness is something that used to terrify me. I was never afraid of the dark until I became an adult and experienced real-life boogeymen and monsters. It’s ironic that I thought leaving a light on would make me feel safe when I needed the darkness to retreat and heal.
I learned to turn inward. I learned to meditate. I found tools that helped me understand my pain and sadness. I needed to navigate the darkness within myself in order to recover my light.
Now that I live my life in tandem with the seasons, I give myself the grace to rest and retreat. Saying no to holiday gatherings feels good. Saying yes feels even better because it comes from a place of genuine desire.
When the days start to lengthen, I feel ready. I find the budding trees and the crisp spring air encouraging. At this point, I am ready to emerge and debut the wisdom and calm sense of knowing myself. I am not sure if anyone else notices, and it doesn’t matter. I know the deep shifts that have occurred.
That’s the thing about healing darkness. It’s deeply personal.
When a rose blooms, we notice its beauty, its softness, and its fragrance. But we rarely stop to think about all of the energy it takes to grow and emerge from beneath the soil.
The darkness is necessary. The retreat is essential. The rest is the catalyst for growth.
Living in a place where winter is long, brutal, and unforgiving has forced me to come to terms with my own darkness. I am no longer afraid of it or anxiously avoiding my own company.
I relish it. I love the challenge of being present when things get uncomfortable. This is freedom.
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