Wintering.

It all started with a walk.

I wish it was deeper or more romantic than that, but this all started with a walk after Thanksgiving dinner. I walked out the screen door of my mother-in-law’s back porch and eased my way down the hill to meet my husband by his father’s shop. I was only going to check in with him to see how our 4-year old was behaving post dinner and 3 pieces of pie later, and to my surprise he was…for a lack of a better word, chill. My husband smiled at me and said, “We were just about to go walk the land. Do you wanna come?”

I glanced back up the hill wondering if I should tell the rest of our family where we were going, but before I could say anything, Kyle extended his arm for me to hold, and off we went. My father-in-law, my son, my husband and me began our way through what would be a soul-changing hour.

The sun was setting, the weather was cool and damp after a morning shower, and the leaves crunched under our feet- when something began to happen. As we weaved our way through semi-cleared land I almost felt as if I was floating. My rushing mind almost came to a total standstill as my father-in-law showed us where he saw the most recent deer tracks, our son oohhed and awed at what we call “the witches’ tree” and every stress knot that usually stings the lower right side of my back disappeared.

I felt almost like the Princess Bride as I picked up the hem of my dress to jump over logs and I found myself giddy and for once, not wanting to go back inside to check my phone.

So while school was out and schedules were slow over Christmas break I found myself chasing that feeling. That peaceful, easy, not a care in the world, we have nowhere to be but right here, feeling. And what I’ve found since then is what I now call “Wintering” and not to be dramatic, but it’s kind of saving my life. Okay, that is dramatic. It is quite literally though saving me from seasonal depression of which I’ve suffered every winter since I was a freshman in college.

I had to take a big step back to look at what seasonal depression really means though. If we are charged by the sun, energized by the green lush grass around us and none of that happens for about 3-4 months out of the year, then why would God who made all things, including the seasons, make us trudge through the muck of winter?

The ground rests, animals hibernate, the weather is cold, and there are more threats for winter storms, we get sleepier more easily and, maybe it’s just me, but I crave soups, homemade breads, and more sweet treats than usual. What is the point of winter? It is a necessity.

Why do we have to experience winter? Because we must.

I could go into the Gregorgian calendar where it proves we should have 13 months instead of 12, I could mention that the "New Year, new me” resolutions are promoted by diet and hustle culture, and I could go on and on about how our consumerist society makes money off of us feeling the need to constantly reinvent ourselves year after year. But instead I will just say that it has always felt unnatural to me to make these grandiose proclamations and resolutions in the dead of winter.

I’ve been so angry at myself in years past by January 5th for breaking promises or new rules that I forced on my schedule or body because I felt I had to. The art of wintering is honoring the season we are in, spiritually, physically, and annually. I think we get into trouble when we try to force winter to be summer. I get into trouble when I try to force myself to be something or someone I’m not.

I will be spending the next few months resting, reading, easing into a new year, being more intentional with my time, reconnecting with old friends, making the drive home to see my family, spending each day possible out by our fire pit and watching the sunset. When the buds on the trees begin to bloom around mid March then that will be my sign to look upward, not inward. Until then, I will be under my great-grandmother’s quilt by the fire reading and resting. I really hope you join me.

I wish you the softest and most restful winter.