Midwinter feels like the world is exhaling…
The days are quiet, the nights stretch long and there’s an undeniable pull towards stillness. It’s more than twinkling lights and glittering snow; It’s the way the trees stand unapologetically bare and the darkness invites us inward, urging us to slow down.
For as long as I can remember, I was swept away by the tidal wave of resolutions and reinvention that accompanies each January. Social media and well-meaning friends nudged me to dive into ambitious goals and plans, but they never felt quite right. By March, I was beyond frustrated, wondering why I couldn’t keep pace and blaming myself for it all.
It wasn’t until I moved to Minnesota, where Winter asserts himself with undeniable presence, that I began to truly listen to the land around me. Experiencing a full cycle of proper seasons for the first time revealed something simple but profound: The natural world moves to its own distinct cadence.
My mind and body weren’t failing me; They were desperately trying to tell me something. Midwinter wasn’t meant for beginnings – It’s a time to rest and gather strength and when I finally embraced this truth and stopped fighting my instincts, my mindset began to shift.
Choosing to step away from hustle culture and the pace society insists upon came with anxiety. though, and the fear of being seen as unambitious, idle, or worse, lazy. But the reality is it was a conscious choice to honor balance over burnout.
Slowing down was a gradual process that felt a bit unnatural. Instead of forcing myself to start something new, I had to teach myself to pause and it was exactly what I needed. Carving out quiet moments like reading in bed, burning incense, heating a simmer pot on the stove, watching the snow fall or just sitting with my thoughts; Those moments were surprisingly restorative and powerful.
Midwinter doesn’t hum with the energy of beginnings… Nature herself is at rest, modeling cycles that are ancient and essential.
Why should we be any different?
This mismatch of energy left me feeling drained and disheartened, like I’d failed before I’d even begun. But I wasn’t failing – the system I participate in is. Our collective cultural obsession with starting anew in January forces us all into patterns that feel unsustainable and exhausting because they are.
Recognizing this gave me the permission I didn’t know I needed to prepare for intentional growth. Once I let go of the self-imposed pressure, I found a rhythm that felt both nourishing and necessary. Free from constant striving, I could focus more on nurturing what mattered for the season ahead and let go of what didn’t work.
So, when restlessness creeps in, I remind myself that, like the land lying fallow in preparation for renewal, we, too, need moments of stillness to restore ourselves.