The Gift of Winter

... a time to consume.

I felt that little dark shadow creeping up behind me the other day. If you don’t know who I’m talking about, he’s a familiar friend—one who likes to rob me of the gift of winter. You probably know him, too, especially if you’re from the PNW. But he didn’t fool me. I know his game well. It was simply a reminder to fall deeper into winter, deeper into Gentle January.

It’s not a huge lift, being easier on yourself in January. In fact, it’s a light load of little gifts you give yourself. We all work; we can’t avoid it. As I get older, I realize more and more how important work is. But those hours when we’re off—the dark ones, the cold ones, the weekends of to-do lists, the nights of pacing—can be spent doing something a little daring.

What if, instead of the “new you” that’s advertised, you settle into the old one? You allow an afternoon nap. You lean into rest and fill your cup back up. Because I know you, and I know you spent the last months pouring into others. This isn’t a time for resolutions or restrictions. It’s a time to grab those extra hours you have and call them your own.

Read a new book, or re-read a classic. Find your favorite tea and make it a nightly ritual. Light the candle you save for hosting. Dare to do winter the way it was intended.

Winter is a time to consume. To simmer the tomato sauce you harvested in August and burn the wood you sliced in spring. To rest, knowing your efforts were put to good use. To rest even when you don’t think you deserve it—because rest isn’t something you earn. It’s as consistent as the patterns of the season. Rest now, because spring is coming soon.

That’s when you can map out the “new you” and start pushing your alarm clock earlier. Spring is the true new year, when the earth starts to wake up. We’ll polish our edges a little more then, but for now—we rest. For now, we craft and drink a second cup of coffee.

It’s the only weapon we have against that dark, creeping shadow. Because winter doesn’t demand anything of us but rest and consumption. So we lean further into those two things. And, to be honest, the results may shock you. By the time spring arrives, you won’t be pushing yourself into resolutions—you’ll be ready for them. You’ll have the sun on your side and a few months of much-needed hibernation under your belt.

So dare with me, to pick up those little gifts winter leave for us and fall deeper into the old you.

For now, at least.