The Art of Living Well | A Reflection by Sandi Greene
Winter has not always been a season I welcomed.
The shorter days, the cold, and the early darkness can make life feel smaller. It is easy to begin counting the weeks until spring—to treat winter as something to endure rather than a season with its own wisdom.
But research suggests that our relationship with winter may influence how we experience it.
In a study of 238 people living in different regions of Norway, researchers Kari Leibowitz and Joar Vittersø found that a more positive wintertime mindset was associated with greater life satisfaction, positive emotions, personal growth, and overall well-being. Interestingly, people living farther north—where winters were darker and often colder—tended to hold more positive attitudes toward the season. internationaljournalofwellbeing.org
This was a correlational study, so it does not prove that changing our thoughts about winter will eliminate seasonal depression or make every difficult day disappear. But it offers a meaningful invitation:
What if winter is not merely happening to us? What if the way we meet it matters?
From Resistance to Relationship
This question reaches far beyond the weather.
For much of my life, I lived in fight-or-flight mode. I learned to push, plan, prepare, and protect myself. Resistance felt like strength because it helped me survive.
But resistance is exhausting when it becomes a way of life.
Through meditation, mindfulness, coaching, and my own healing journey, I have learned that I do not have to fight every season. I can listen to what life is asking of me. I can discern what is mine to do, take the next aligned step, and release my demand that everything unfold according to my timetable.
Winter offers me another opportunity to practice this.
I cannot make the sun remain in the sky. I cannot hurry the first crocus through the frozen ground. I cannot argue the cold away.
I can, however, choose my relationship with what is here.
Winter as an Invitation
In this chapter of my life, I am learning to see winter as an invitation to slow down, simplify, and come home to myself.
That may mean beginning the morning with meditation before I enter the noise of the world. It may mean holding a warm matcha latte in both hands and allowing myself to be present for the quiet ritual of it.
It may mean preparing a nourishing bowl of oatmeal, soup, or stew instead of treating food as one more task to complete. It may mean journaling while the city rests beneath a blanket of snow.
It may also mean bundling up and going outside—walking through my neighborhood, riding the bus to a class or café, noticing bare branches etched against the sky, or allowing the cold air to remind me that I am awake and alive.
Research on a small, randomized winter intervention found that people who intentionally noticed everyday nature reported increases in positive emotion, hope, and connection. They did not need to travel into the wilderness. The practice was simply to notice the nature already present in daily life. frontiersin.org
The tree beside the bus stop counts.
So does the changing light.
So does the quiet miracle of snow.
A Season for Being
Our culture often asks us to remain equally productive in every season. But nature does not live that way.
Trees release their leaves. Gardens rest. The earth grows quiet, conserving what it needs for the life that will emerge later.
Perhaps we are allowed to have seasons, too.
Winter does not have to become another self-improvement project. I do not need to create a perfect morning routine, maintain constant positivity, or pretend that every cold, gray day is beautiful.
A winter mindset is not about denying difficulty. It is about becoming curious enough to notice that difficulty is not the whole story.
There can be loneliness—and connection.
There can be darkness—and candlelight.
There can be cold—and warmth.
There can be stillness—and life quietly preparing beneath the surface.
Creating a Winter That Supports Us
I am learning to create small points of warmth and meaning throughout my days:
- Beginning with meditation rather than urgency.
- Preparing warm, nourishing meals.
- Moving my body gently and consistently.
- Spending time with people who nourish my spirit.
- Attending classes, yoga, and community gatherings.
- Noticing the natural world during ordinary walks and bus rides.
- Reading, journaling, and allowing silence to have a place in my life.
- Resting without turning rest into something I must earn.
None of these practices changes the temperature outside. They change the way I inhabit the season.
And perhaps that is the deeper lesson: we do not always have control over the season we are in, but we can participate in the way we live through it.
What Winter May Be Teaching Us
Winter reminds me that a quiet life is not an empty life.
Rest is not failure. Slowing down is not falling behind. The unseen seasons—the times when nothing appears to be happening—may be preparing us for what comes next.
I am no longer interested in rushing through my life while waiting for better weather, fewer complications, or perfect certainty.
This winter, I want to be here.
I want to receive the light when it comes and create warmth when it does not. I want to notice beauty without demanding that it look like summer. I want to let winter be winter—and allow myself to become quiet enough to hear what it has come to teach me.
Perhaps the question is not, “How do I get through winter?”
Perhaps it is:
How do I want to live while winter is here?
And today, my answer is simple:
Slowly. Mindfully. Warmly. Gratefully.
One sacred, ordinary day at a time.
A Reflection for You
What might change if you stopped treating winter as an interruption and began relating to it as a season with something to offer?
Choose one small practice that could bring warmth, beauty, movement, connection, or meaning into your winter days. Let it be simple enough to become part of your life.
With love,
Sandi 💗
The Art of Living Well
https://sandigreene.com/
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