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There is a moment each year when the world exhales.

The Winter Solstice—the longest night, the quietest turning—is not a collapse into darkness, but a pause so deep it becomes holy.

In a culture that worships momentum, winter arrives as a rebellion, reminding us to descend into what lays beneath the surface and that we do not need to produce to be worthy.

The Medicine of Winter

Winter medicine is not about healing through action. It is healing through rest.

Winter strips the trees bare so they can rest their roots. It quiets the animals into hibernation. It slows the sap. It invites the sacred pause necessary to life can “begin again”, continuously evolving and adapting.

For humans, winter medicine asks us to:

• Conserve energy instead of spending it
• Listen instead of explain
• Feel instead of fix
• Surrender instead of control
• Grieve what needs to be grieved
• Release identities that cannot survive the next chapter of life

Winter does not ask for performance. It asks for honesty. Winter reveals that what isn’t working for you anymore will start working against you. And when we can acknowledge where that shows up in our lives, it can become a gift that helps us let go and invite something more aligned to take it’s place. What appears as death and nothingness is really the blueprint for new life and a path to greater fulfillment.

Descending Into Winter (Instead of Resisting It)

Most of us were taught to override winter. To stay productive, upbeat, visible, and “on track.” But winter is not a season to conquer—it is a season to surrender.

To descend into winter is to allow parts of your life to go dormant without rushing their return.

This might look like:

This season, sitting with Winter might look like:

• Unanswered questions
• Things falling apart
• Not knowing how things will work out
• Not knowing what we want
• Feeling ‘lost’ or ‘inbetween’
• Feelings we avoided during the brightness
• Letting certain relationships go quiet
• Releasing goals that were fueled by external validation
• Resting creative projects without labeling them “failed”
• Saying no without justification
• Being less available, less explainable, less polished

Which of these resonate with you? We invite you to sit in reflection or journaling and write down all the ways Winter is revealing itself to you in your life. What wants to come out of the other side? What is ready to be transformed? How can you surrender just 20% more to the unknown, without forcing clarity or action prematurely?

When we refuse winter, it often arrives as burnout, depression, resentment, or illness.

When we welcome it, it arrives as clarity.

Giving Parts of Your Life Over to Winter

Not everything needs to survive this season.

Some things need to be composted.

Winter invites us to consciously offer parts of our lives back to the dark—trusting that what is meant to return will do so changed, wiser, more rooted.

You might give winter:

• An identity you’ve outgrown
• A habit that keeps you busy but disconnected
• A story about who you should be
• A pace that no longer honors your nervous system
• A dream that needs to rest before it can evolve

This is not quitting. This is gestation.

Trusting the Dark

The Winter reminds us that light does not need to be chased. It returns on its own. Your job this season is not to bloom.

It is to root. What you give to winter now will shape what grows in spring—but only if you let it rest fully. This is not a season of answers, but of deep listening.