Learning to Love Winter Instead of Just Surviving It

Dear Land Loved,

I feel kind of dumb asking this because it’s the same thing every year, but I’m already dreading it. The clocks change and it’s dark by 4:30 and something in me just sinks. I don’t think I’m depressed exactly? I still go to work and see people and do the things. But I get heavy and sleepy and pull in. I cancel plans, stop answering texts, and want to be in bed by 7 with a blanket.

Then I feel guilty because I know people who love winter. They ski and make soup and talk about being cozy, and I’m just waiting for April. Five months is almost half the year that I’m getting through instead of living.

Is there a way to actually enjoy winter instead of just surviving it? Are there herbs or rituals that help? I don’t want to white-knuckle it again.

Sorry if this is all over the place.

I feel you. Let’s dive in.

I grew up in Toronto, which is practically sunny in the winter compared to Nelson. I had never really experienced the winter blues until I moved somewhere the valley fog settles in for five months and you don’t see the sun until May unless you climb a mountain. That first year was a struggle.

I remember one day that winter when the clouds miraculously parted for two or three minutes. The sun poured through the gap, and my friend and I stopped dead in the middle of our walk, shed our coats, and stood there soaking it in like lizards warming our blood. Then the clouds closed back over, we put our coats back on, and we kept walking, wondering out loud whether it was actually plausible to keep living here.

That was the year I really started bonding with St. Joan’s Wort, also known as St. John’s Wort or Hypericum perforatum. She is sunshine in a bottle. Once I started working with her daily, my winter blues disappeared completely, and now I actually love and crave winter. I take two dropperfuls of tincture a day. And as a bonus, in my experience she’s also an excellent antiviral, so in the colder months she supports both your mood and your defenses against cold and flu season.

How she’s prepared matters. I only work with a tincture made from the fresh flowering plant in 100 proof vodka. She’s not great in pill form, and she’s almost useless as a tea. Pills in particular can have contraindications with other medications, so if you’re on anything, please check with an herbalist before taking St. Joan’s Wort.

Now, about energy, and what’s actually healthy.

It’s okay to live seasonally. It’s okay to be less social and to sleep more in winter. I think it’s poetic and beautiful to be in sync with the earth and her cycles.

Consider how much more energy everything takes in winter. Getting dressed takes longer because of the layers. You have to shovel the walk. When you arrive anywhere, there’s a whole avalanche of wet things to peel off. Staying warm is real work. Of course you need more sleep. You need the extra energy just to live your life in the cold.

I’ll also say this: sometimes I have to give myself a little push to go out into the dark. I’m not talking about overextending yourself or ignoring your need for rest, just a small nudge. It gets dark so early here that if I waited for daylight, I’d barely move all winter, so I often hike after dark. I know it’s hard to get started when everything in you wants to stay on the couch, but I’ve found that making it a habit and sticking with it makes all the difference. We aren’t meant to stay inside. Humans need time outdoors, and when we stop moving, our mood can slide. Getting outside in every season, not just the bright ones, keeps us connected to the world and to ourselves.

Our busy world doesn’t encourage slowing down, but I believe it’s healthier to live in cycles. We can’t have endless creativity and energy. We need time to recharge, to dream, to make plans. A baby gestates for nine months before it’s born, and in the same way we can turn inward and nourish ourselves through the dark months.

For ritual, I love following the wheel of the year, which is made up of eight holidays, or sabbats. One of the reasons I love them is that they mark our planet’s journey around the sun. Whatever you believe about the mythology, the Winter Solstice really is the longest night of the year. That part is grounded in fact, not belief. Celebrating the wheel can be as simple as honouring the seasons and chapters of the earth we live on.

The wheel turns, ends, and begins again at Samhain on October 31st, the Witches’ New Year. The nights have been growing longer than the days since the Autumn Equinox in late September, and by Samhain you can really feel us journeying into the darker half of the year. From there we move through the deepening dark, counting down the days to the Winter Solstice around December 21st, the longest night, which we meet with candles and gratitude. Then something shifts. The light begins its slow return, a minute at a time, until Imbolc arrives on February 1st, often translated as “in the belly.” Beneath the frozen ground, seeds are stirring and the new year is quietly growing, even if you can’t see it yet. Finally, around March 20th, the Spring Equinox arrives, with day and night in perfect balance and the northern hemisphere tilting back toward the sun. Marking these moments is how winter stops being one long gray stretch and becomes distinct chapters, each with its own meaning and purpose. I really encourage you to explore the wheel of the year for yourself.

So if you’re dreading the dark, I’d invite you to let go and live seasonally. That doesn’t require white-knuckling. It requires living differently, not trying to live like it’s summer. It means not overextending ourselves, and listening to our bodies when they ask for more rest. Nourish yourself, find your sunshine where you can, and let winter be what it is: a time to turn inward, dream, and gestate.

With love,

Vanessa 🖤

P.S. If the winter months feel heavy, I hold free monthly women’s circles in Nelson, BC. Sometimes it helps to have a warm room and other women beside you. And if you’re feeling adventurous, I also gather outdoors for each of the eight holidays of the Wheel of the Year.