Driving into Soul Sanctuary last weekend, I noticed the trees were engaged in a wild dance.
I should have paid closer attention as I got out of the car, because the wind nearly took me with it. Walking to the door, I had to lean in and brace myself for a moment just to stay upright. The cold whipped through my clothes and found every uncovered space, sharing its bone-numbing chill.
I’m a bit over the cold, dark days of winter. And it’s only the beginning of February.
I wondered how a child who grew up playing and skiing in the snow could become an adult who avoids the cold like a hot potato.
I’m not alone in feeling that this winter has been long and unrelenting. The cold settled in, the snow kept arriving, and the darkness has lingered a bit too long. I’ve noticed that people who usually move, walk, and gather are sharing a quiet resistance toward going outside.
It’s not dramatic. More like a deep reluctance to push against what is already heavy.
It shows up when you don’t want to go out. You don’t want to muster and you want to stay within the comfort of home. Yet, alongside that is a missing of being outside, walking and breathing, and moving through the world more freely.
I’ve been thinking about how comfort soothes dark and cold times, both with weather and with the circumstances of life.
In Norway, there are months when sunlight disappears almost entirely. People don’t fight the inevitable. They prepare, adapt, and even celebrate the dark cold. They cultivate warmth in their homes with candles, roaring fires, and hearty soups. They strap headlamps on and walk to meet friends at a café or pull bundled-up children on sleds to family gatherings.
Some brave souls even gather at the sea, entering frigid water with hardiness and laughter as a communal ritual. While the thought makes me shudder, I appreciate the reminder that aliveness, in any weather, can be celebrated.
In my neck of the woods, people have grown used to mild winters and a few days of melting snow.
Persistent cold invites retreat inward. In some ways, this mirrors the season of Winter itself. A time to slow down, enjoy the quiet, and allow the body to restore. This is where seeds of inspiration are nourished, waiting for warmer days and heightened energy.
When moods, energy, physical activity, and social engagement dip, there is often a quiet, or not so quiet, voice that says something is wrong.
That you should be handling things better, staying upbeat, being more productive, or pushing through some imagined standard.
What if that story isn’t true? What if this long, dark, cold stretch is asking for a different kind of care, one that doesn’t require justification?
Caring well for yourself in winter invites honoring how your internal rhythms are moving and what you genuinely require at this time.
It’s a season when your system may be conserving energy or seeking comfort because conditions are demanding. Responding accurately means noticing this rather than overriding it. Winter invites choosing warmth, beauty, and pleasure without apologizing for them or framing them as indulgence.
Comfy clothes. Time under blankets. Home-cooked meals. Less socializing and more contemplation.
You might find yourself drawn to slower mornings, softer lighting, heavier blankets, and food that takes time.
You might want fewer conversations but deeper ones. You might want to read instead of scroll, sit by a window instead of pushing yourself out into the cold, or let your evenings close down naturally rather than staying artificially bright and busy.
It’s also important to discern whether you’re enjoying winter and thriving in the cold, or pushing yourself to maintain a rhythm that’s easier with light and warmth. People vary. It helps to know where you land.
Layered beneath this cold, snowy weather is another kind of winter.
Looking out into the world right now, the climate feels harsh in more ways than one. Division, outrage, harm to people and the environment, and unsettling news create a sense that something essential is being strained or torn.
Witnessing the state of the world can feel like a long season with no clear thaw in sight.
That makes personalized care even more important, not less.
Choosing comfort, warmth, and nourishment, if that’s what’s called for, makes good sense.
It’s wise to harmonize your nervous system, calm your mind, and soothe your emotions. This is how you remain capable of kindness, discernment, and presence when the world feels loud and fractured.
Care doesn’t have to be dramatic. It can be quietly pleasing.
A candle lit for no reason. A meal that actually satisfies. An early night without explanation. A conversation that feels human instead of performative.
You don’t need to earn these things by being productive first. You don’t need to frame them as self-improvement. You are simply responding to Winter as Winter, living in a way that matches your preference and bandwidth.
Movement will return, of course. Light is already on its way. Cold and snow will soften, and days outside will become more inviting.
But those days have not arrived yet. Don’t jump ahead or live as if they have. There’s something deeply supportive about being in sync with your inner rhythm in every season. When you’re not, strain builds inside and everything outside feels harder.
This cold, dark, often windy season asks you to stay close to yourself.
To tend the small hearths of your life in ways that feel pleasing and comforting.
And if you worry that you’re withdrawing too much from the world, be at peace.
This is a time to inhabit the way you’re called to live right now. Close, warm, and true to yourself.
There will be a time to turn outward again. Listen for the inner urge, but there’s no need to move before you’re ready.
Enjoy this time if you can. Seasons change. Light returns. And warmth is always generated from within.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Winter may slow you down. Yet it is a time where movement matters. Even 15 minutes a day of some exercise or body movement that is pleasing has beneficial impact. Sure, gym time works. But dancing with the dog, kids, or partner works. So does yoga, chi gong, or walking the mall. If you add some favorite music and even a movement buddy, life may seem lighter even in the darker days. Good nutrition, enough sleep, and Vitamin D or sunshine (even through the window) are good for a winter body. A rousing game of monopoly, scrabble, or freeze dance can do wonders for a winter mood.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
My basement is already filling with toys and gifts for the SisterHood families. This is the TWENTY THIRD year of the SisterHood Holiday Gift Drive and I realize that it now has a momentum of it’s own. We’ve served anywhere from 250 to all 450 during these years.
It’s uncomfortable feeling the darkness within the belly, leaking into the day. The waking to news that frightens, angers, and confuses you. This world gone astray.
It was a day of exquisite Fall beauty, poignant pain, and inspiring hope. We stood among 600 people gathered at a local park for the 9th annual Out of the Darkness Walk. Many groups carrying photos of lovely humans or wearing t-shirts honoring those they lost to suicide.
I pulled into a crowded Target parking lot on a windy, sunny afternoon.nI’ve been doing a bunch of errands and had plenty of direct experience with busy roadways, impatient drivers, and crowded parking lots.
The Art of Becoming 6 week Journey offers an invitation to step outside the boundaries of your life as you know it. To go on a pilgrimage to the unknown. Within a circle of sisters.
I’m at home in the redwoods of California. My whole being knows this to be true. Until 10 months ago, I was not aware that such a place existed for me.
