Embracing Winters Wisdom
For the last few winters, I’ve resisted the cold. The snow blanketing the earth and the shortening of days felt like an impending doom. I wanted to flee from the idea of snowflakes falling and chase the warmth of endless summer. The darkness that came with winter forced me indoors, and I’d push against it, wishing for something different.
But I live in the mountains. No matter how far I’ve gone, they’ve always called me back. There’s something about their magnificence, the potent energy of this Tahoe area, that feels like home. When I stand at the top of a mountain, all the noise quiets. My worries shrink. I can breathe and remember there’s a higher perspective to everything.
This year, as the summer days started to fade, I felt the familiar pang of sadness—that little knot in my stomach at the thought of the frost creeping in, of the warmth slipping away. But instead of fighting it, I decided to let it in. I told myself, this year, I’m going to flow with the seasons. Feel them. Let them move through me instead of bracing against them. The snow will come no matter what I think about it, so maybe it’s time to ask: What can it teach me?
And just like that, something shifted. When I stopped resisting, I started noticing. Winter has so much beauty to offer. It reminded me why I’ve always loved living somewhere with dramatic seasons. They’re a mirror, showing me my connection to the natural world. The trees, the rivers, the animals preparing for the cold—they’re not separate from me. We’re all part of this same rhythm, this same pulse of life. And winter’s rhythm… it’s slower, quieter. It calls me inward. It asks me to rest, to reflect, to let go.
It’s so easy to run toward comfort—to chase what feels warm and safe, whether it’s the physical warmth of summer or the mental safety of routines and distractions. But growth doesn’t come from staying where we’re comfortable. Nature doesn’t grow that way either. The seasons show us what’s possible when we allow ourselves to surrender to their flow. Winter strips everything back to its essence. Trees let go of their leaves, not because they’re dying, but because they’re preparing for something new. The earth rests under a blanket of snow, conserving energy for the burst of life that will come in spring.
What if we did the same? What if we trusted the natural rhythm instead of resisting it? Winter’s quiet asks us to sit with ourselves, to face what we’ve been avoiding, to do the inner work that summer’s distractions don’t always allow. It’s in that stillness that we find clarity. We let go of what’s no longer serving us, creating space for new growth when the time is right. It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s necessary.
Now, I recognize the peace in it all. The crackling fire, the long, quiet nights—I welcome them. What used to feel like being forced inside now feels like being nestled in the safety of a warm den. It’s a place where I have permission to turn all my energy within. To rest, to reflect, to dream. There is comfort in the cocoon of winter, in knowing that this is my time to gather strength for what’s to come.
As the solstice gets closer, I’ve been finding myself reflecting a lot. Thinking about where I’ve been, where I want to go, and what it feels like to just allow things to be as they are. There’s a peace in that—in letting nature guide me, in trusting its flow. I’m ready for whatever this winter has to offer, knowing it’s all part of the cycle. And I’m reminded, once again, that to truly live is to live in rhythm with it all.
May this winter be a time to nestle into the quiet of your heart, to rest, and to gently prepare for what’s to come. Happy Holiday’s and many blessings on surrendering to the rhythm of life.
