Losing the Light: Preparing for Winter With Compassion and Care

Since the summer solstice on June 21, daylight has been slipping away a few minutes at a time. Most of us don’t really feel the change until we turn the clocks back and suddenly it’s dark before dinner. That one-hour shift can throw off our sleep, our energy, and our sense of wellbeing. For many women, especially those balancing families, households, and work, this sudden loss of light is an unwelcome reminder that winter is coming.

I’m one of those people who dread winter. I don’t love the cold, and the shorter days always take some adjusting. But over the years, I’ve tried to approach this transition through the lens of Ecotherapy, which reminds us that reconnecting with nature can help us feel more grounded during seasonal shifts. Ecotherapists help identify and restore the connection to nature that most of our ancestors had for millenia before the industrial revolution.  When we are in tune with the rhythms of nature, we can feel more at home in our lives.  

Why This Season Brings Up Anxiety

Our discomfort in the fall isn’t random. Historically, this was a time of uncertainty. Food scarcity, illness, and long stretches of cold were real threats for our ancestors. Even today, especially with things like reduced SNAP benefits for many families, the fear of “not enough” is still very present.

Knowing this can be surprisingly validating. Instead of judging ourselves for feeling tense or tired, we can recognize that our bodies are responding to something very old and very human.

And the message behind that old fear? It is to prepare, not panic. We can donate food, make soups, prepare tonics for winter respiratory illness, donate winter coats and establish relationships with elderly or ill neighbors who may need help over the winter

Nature’s Lesson: Slowing Down Isn’t Failure

In winter, there is quiet, stillness, and rest, but our culture resists that at every turn. We’re told to stay productive, stay upbeat, stay busy even when our bodies are begging for rest. 

We can look to the trees who go dormant, losing their leaves and sending energy down into their roots.  Trees can't judge themselves for losing their autumn beauty, they simply let go.  Bears, chipmunks and frogs hibernate all winter.  Almost every living thing must adapt to the changing weather and darkness.  We have much to learn from this. 

We are the only species that judges itself for needing rest. And when we push through instead of listening, we often cope by numbing, scrolling, binge-watching or pouring a second glass of wine. Those things might ease the moment, but they don’t replenish us.

Looking to nature as a mirror, we can practice trusting that our biological responses to the cold and dark are necessary, needed, and restorative.

Practicing Distress Tolerance (Without Forcing Positivity)

Winter gives us countless opportunities to practice distress tolerance, which is the ability to manage and cope with emotional distress without making it worse. The cold. The wind. The early sunset. The restless feelings we can’t quite name.

It’s easy to shift into resistance: “I hate this. I can’t stand this.” But resistance often intensifies the distress. Distress tolerance isn’t about pretending we love winter, it’s about softening the internal fight and learning to respond to discomfort with curiosity and compassion.

We can practice thoughts like:

• “This wind is uncomfortable, but I’m okay.”

• “This darkness is hard, but it won’t last forever.”

• “This feeling is here, and it will pass.”

Just like leaning into the wind makes it feel less harsh, leaning gently into emotional discomfort can make it easier to move through.

Small Practices That Make a Difference

These aren’t fixes or solutions, just gentle supports that align with nature’s rhythm. Even a few minutes outside can lift your mood. Notice what’s still alive, what’s adapting, and what’s quietly carrying on. Lean into community: winter has always been a season of coming together, sharing meals, warmth, conversations, and gratitude. We weren’t meant to navigate the darker months alone.

Finally, let yourself rest. Give yourself permission to slow down, adjust, and honor your body’s needs. Even small moments of pause can help replenish you for the long stretch ahead.

The Wisdom of Winter

Winter doesn’t just take the light away, it also offers its own kind of illumination. It teaches us that slowing down isn’t failure, that leaning into discomfort can bring resilience, and that rest, connection, and care are not luxuries, they’re necessities. As the days grow shorter and the cold sets in, we can choose to move through the season with curiosity rather than resistance, noticing how nature adapts and letting it guide us.

This winter, let yourself rest when you need it, gather with the people who lift you up, and offer small acts of care, to yourself and to others. Let the season teach you patience, gentleness, and trust: that even in darkness, life continues, and so will you.