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Stories and Tips for Embracing Winter’s Slower Season
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The days after Christmas can feel strangely empty. The lights are taken down, the parties are over, and we’re left with the long, dark weeks of winter stretching ahead. January can feel endless — grey skies, cold mornings, evenings that close in before we’ve barely finished the day.
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But there is a different way to see this season. Winter doesn’t have to be endured; it can be embraced. Home can become our sanctuary. And in the slowing down, in the quiet routines, there is a kind of magic waiting for us — if we let it.
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What It Means to “Winter”
Katherine May, in her beautiful book Wintering, describes winter as “a season in the cold when you are cut off from the world, feeling rejected, sidelined, blocked from progress.” For her, it is both literal and metaphorical: winters of the year, and winters of the soul. Her invitation is to stop resisting and instead let these seasons do their work.
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Psychologist Kari Leibovitz, in her book How to Winter, takes a complementary view. Drawing on Scandinavian research, she explains how cultivating a positive winter mindset dramatically improves wellbeing. When we choose to see winter not as a punishment, but as an opportunity, everything shifts — moods lift, resilience grows, and joy becomes more possible.
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And Erin Neamey Longhurst, in The Joy of Wintering, brings the season back to the everyday: small rituals, crafts, creativity, and the ordinary comforts of home. She reminds us that joy doesn’t come from filling the calendar but from paying attention to the tiny sparks that light the dark.
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Together, these voices remind us that winter is not wasted time. It is a season rich with meaning — if we choose to see it.
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Our Family’s Winter Rhythm
For us, the rhythm of home changes in January. Evenings get quieter. There are more board games, more films under blankets, more mugs of tea shared by the fire. The kitchen leans towards soups and stews, loaves of bread, comfort food that grounds us.
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Sometimes winter feels long, especially after the sparkle of December, but it also gives us permission. Permission to say no, to slow down, to put pyjamas on early. Permission to linger.
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Last year, I remember one Saturday in mid-January when the weather outside was wild — cold rain and a sharp wind. We made pancakes, lit candles in the afternoon, and read books while the storm blew itself out. Nothing special. But I remember the feeling of it: safe, warm, together. That’s what wintering at home gives us.
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The Gifts of Slowness
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Wintering at home teaches us that:
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- Rest matters. Longer nights and darker mornings are not laziness but nature’s way of reminding us to sleep more.
- Small rituals anchor us. A morning coffee, an evening candle, a Sunday meal can hold us steady through long weeks.
- Mindset makes the difference. As Leibovitz notes, when we choose to see winter as a time for comfort, connection, and creativity, it becomes a gift instead of a burden.
- Joy is found in little things. As Longhurst writes, simple crafts, cooking, or creative projects bring light when the days feel grey.
Practical Ways to Winter at Home
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Here are some gentle, real-life practices that bring the idea of wintering to life:
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- Light up the dark. Use candles, lamps, and fairy lights to soften January’s grey edges.
- Warmth is everything. Pile on blankets, hot water bottles, cosy socks. Let comfort be the point, not the afterthought.
- Create rituals. Maybe it’s Sunday soup, Friday film night, or afternoon tea. Tiny markers that bring rhythm and comfort.
- Nourish your body. Cook with seasonal foods, make stews, bake bread — meals that fill the house with warmth.
- Get outside anyway. A short walk in crisp air clears the cobwebs and resets the mind.
- Tend to your soul. Journal, pray, read, or simply rest. Choose whatever helps you exhale.
As Erin Longhurst reminds us, joy is often tucked into the smallest moments, waiting to be noticed.
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When Winter Feels Hard
Of course, winter isn’t always cosy. Darkness can feel heavy, energy can dip, moods can slide. For some, January feels lonely.
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Wintering at home doesn’t mean pretending these struggles don’t exist. It means tending to ourselves with kindness. It means noticing when we need daylight, or connection, or a conversation with a friend. It means remembering, as May reminds us, that winters — both literal and metaphorical — are part of life’s cycle. They do not last forever.
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So as the Christmas sparkle fades and January stretches ahead, don’t be afraid of the quiet. Let your home be a place of warmth and refuge. Lean into the slower rhythm, the small rituals, the ordinary comforts.
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Because winter is not wasted time. It is a season of roots, of renewal, of restoration. And sometimes the greatest gift we can give ourselves is to stop rushing ahead and simply winter — right here, right now, at home.
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“To winter well is not to escape the cold, but to let the season teach us how to rest, how to endure, and how to find joy in the simplest of things.”
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P.S. If you’re interested in exploring these beautiful books for yourself, I can’t recommend them enough. Each one offers its own gentle wisdom on rest, reflection, and embracing the darker months with grace. You’ll find them linked below.
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These are affiliate links, which means that if you decide to purchase through them, I may earn a small commission — at no extra cost to you. Thank you so much for supporting Our Little House in the Country in this way; it helps me continue creating slow, intentional, seasonal content all year round. 💛
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