When You're Living in Winter

And the world demands summer

You know you're in winter.

Not the calendar kind. Not December through February.

Your winter. The season of your soul.

Everything feels heavy. Slow. Dormant. Like nothing is growing, nothing is blooming, nothing is happening—even though you're trying, even though you're working, even though you're doing everything you're supposed to do.

The world around you is in summer. Everyone else seems to be blooming, producing, achieving, expanding. And you're supposed to keep up. You're supposed to maintain the same energy, the same output, the same brightness.

But you can't.

Because you're not in summer. You're in winter.

And winter has different rules.

What Winter Actually Is

Winter isn't just a time of year. It's a state of being. A season of the soul.

Winter is:

• The darkness after a death (relationship, identity, dream)

• The dormancy after burning out

• The rest your body demands after years of performing

• The void between who you were and who you're becoming

• The chrysalis phase where nothing visible is happening

• The necessary fallow period after harvest

• The recovery after illness, trauma, or profound loss

Winter is when life asks you to stop. To rest. To go inward. To let things die. To trust what's happening underground.

Not because you're failing. Because it's your season.

How You Know You're in Winter

You might not recognize it at first. You might think you're depressed, lazy, broken, or just not trying hard enough.

But winter has specific signs:

Nothing you do feels productive. You're working, but it's like pushing through mud. Nothing bears fruit. Nothing gains momentum. Everything is slow and hard.

You have no energy for what used to excite you. Projects that once lit you up feel meaningless. Goals that used to motivate you feel empty. You can't remember why you cared.

You need more rest than usual. And no amount of rest feels like enough. You're not just tired, you're bone-deep exhausted. Your body is demanding hibernation.

Social interaction feels depleting. Even with people you love. Even doing things you usually enjoy. You need to be alone. In the quiet. In the dark.

You feel disconnected from your purpose. Not because you don't have one, but because winter isn't about purpose and productivity. It's about being. And being feels purposeless in a world obsessed with doing.

You're grieving something (or many things). Maybe you know what. Maybe you don't. But there's loss underneath. Old identities dying. Old dreams ending. Old versions of yourself falling away.

You keep trying to force growth and it's not working. Because you can't bloom in winter. You can only rest and trust.

Why Winter Happens

Winter is not punishment. It's restoration.

You're in winter because:

You've been in summer too long. You pushed. You produced. You bloomed. You gave everything. And now your system is depleted. Winter is your body's way of saying: Enough. We need to restore.

Something died and you need time to grieve. Loss requires winter. You can't rush through grief and emerge unchanged. You have to sit with the death. Honor it. Let it compost into soil for what's next.

You're being initiated. Every major life transition includes a winter phase. The dissolution before the emergence. The dark night before the dawn. You're not stuck; you're in the portal.

Your soul is recalibrating. When your life gets misaligned with your truth, winter forces the pause. It strips away the distractions so you can hear what's real underneath.

You're preparing for your next season. Spring doesn't arrive because you force it. It arrives because winter did its work. The rest, the darkness, the underground preparation, that's what makes spring possible.

What Winter Demands

The world will tell you to keep pushing. Keep producing. Keep showing up at summer's pace.

But winter has different requirements:

1. Rest Without Productivity

Not rest so you can be more productive later. Rest as an end in itself.

Your worth is not in what you produce. Your value is not in your output. You're allowed to rest just because you're tired.

Winter says: Be still. Do less. Sleep more. Let yourself be dormant.

2. Darkness and Silence

The noise, the light, the constant stimulation; it's all too much in winter.

You need darkness to see what's hidden. You need silence to hear what's underneath.

Winter says: Turn inward. Reduce input. Sit with yourself in the quiet.

3. Letting Things Die

Some things aren't meant to survive winter. Old identities. Old relationships. Old dreams. Old versions of yourself.

Let them go. Don't try to revive what's already dead.

Winter says: Release. Grieve. Compost. Make space.

4. Trust Without Evidence

Nothing is blooming. Nothing looks like progress. It feels like nothing is happening.

But underground, in the dark, in the cold, in the unseen, the work is being done.

Winter says: Trust the process even when you can't see results. Trust that rest is productive. Trust that darkness is generative.

5. No Forcing

You can't force spring. You can't make things grow. You can't rush the thaw.

Every attempt to push through winter before it's complete just prolongs it.

Winter says: Surrender. Stop fighting. Let the season do what it needs to do.

What You're Not Allowed to Do in Winter

The world will pressure you. Your own mind will pressure you. But here's what winter will not allow:

You can't bloom on command. Summer energy in winter season breaks you. Stop trying to be what you're not right now.

You can't maintain the same pace. If you keep pushing at summer's speed, you'll crash. Winter pace is slow. Honor it.

You can't skip the grief. Whatever's dying needs to be mourned. If you bypass the loss, it festers. Feel it. Let it move through.

You can't distract your way out. Busyness, achievement, constant input; these are summer strategies. In winter, they just exhaust you more. The only way through is inward.

You can't compare yourself to people in other seasons. Their summer isn't your failure. You're in different seasons. That's all.

The Gifts of Winter

This season, as hard as it is, is not punishment. It's carrying gifts you can only receive in the dark.

Clarity. When everything else strips away, what remains is what's real. Winter shows you what actually matters.

Wisdom. The lessons of winter go deeper than summer's lessons. You learn who you are when nothing is working. You learn what you're made of in the dark.

Humility. You're not in control. You can't force. You can't will your way through. Winter teaches surrender.

Compassion. For yourself. For others who are struggling. Winter breaks open your heart in ways summer never could.

Preparation. Spring will come. And when it does, you'll be ready because winter did its work. The rest, the stillness, the inward turn, all of it was preparing you.

How to Live Winter Well

You can't escape winter. But you can choose how you inhabit it.

Honor the Season You're Actually In

Stop pretending you're in summer. Stop forcing summer energy. Acknowledge: I'm in winter. And that's okay.

Create Winter Practices

Daily:

• Rest more than feels reasonable

• Reduce light and stimulation in the evening

• Journal in the morning (not for productivity; for processing)

• Three slow breaths whenever you notice you're pushing

Weekly:

• One completely unproductive day

• Time in actual nature (winter landscape reflects your inner landscape)

• Gentle movement (restorative yoga, walking, stretching, not intense workouts)

• Connection with one person who understands

Monthly:

• Review what you're ready to release

• Check in: "What's being prepared underground that I can't see yet?"

• Ritual for honoring the season (light a candle for what's dormant, not dead)

Protect Your Winter

People will try to pull you out. They'll tell you to "just try harder" or "think positive" or "get out of your funk."

Set boundaries.

• "I'm in a rest season right now. I need to honor that."

• "I'm not available for that."

• "I need quiet more than I need social time."

• You don't owe anyone an explanation.

Remember: This Is Not Forever

Winter feels endless when you're in it. But seasons change. They always do.

Signs winter is ending:

• Energy starts returning (slowly, inconsistently)

• Tiny impulses toward something new

• Grief feels less crushing

• You start caring about things again (even slightly)

• The darkness doesn't feel as heavy

Don't rush it. But notice it. The thaw is coming.

The Cocoon Phase Is Winter

This is what the Cocoon Phase is designed for.

Not productivity. Not forcing growth. Not performing transformation.

The Cocoon Phase is the sacred container for winter.

Where you're allowed to:

• Be dormant

• Rest without guilt

• Grieve what's ending

• Sit in the darkness

• Trust what's happening underground

• Stop performing

If you're in winter and you're trying to do Emergence work or Wingwork: stop.

You're not ready yet. And that's not failure. That's honoring your season.

Winter comes first. The dissolution. The rest. The darkness. The death.

Then, and only then, spring can arrive.

What's Waiting on the Other Side

I won't lie to you: winter is hard. It's lonely. It's disorienting. It asks you to trust when you have no evidence.

But here's what happens when you honor winter instead of fighting it:

You emerge restored. Not just rested. Fundamentally restored. Your energy returns; different, deeper, more sustainable.

You know yourself. Winter strips away everything false. What remains is what's real. You.

You're clear on what matters. Summer distracts. Winter clarifies. You know now what's essential and what's not.

You're ready for your next season. Spring doesn't just arrive. It arrives because winter prepared the ground. The rest, the darkness, the trust; it was all preparation.

You're different. You can't go through winter unchanged. You're wiser. Softer. Stronger. More yourself.

For the Woman in Winter Right Now

If you're reading this in the dark—

If you're exhausted, grieving, dormant, and everyone around you is asking why you can't just bloom—

You're not broken. You're in winter.

And winter is not failure. It's a season. Your season.

Honor it.

Rest when you need to rest. Grieve what needs to be grieved. Let things die. Sit in the darkness. Trust the process.

Stop comparing your winter to someone else's summer.

You're not behind. You're not stuck. You're exactly where you need to be.

Winter will end. It always does.

And when spring comes; when the thaw begins, when the first shoots of new growth appear,

You'll be ready.

Because winter did its work.

And so did you.

With you in the becoming,

Dawn

be-U-tiful.One
Beauty not as approval, but as truth.