What more could she say? That was my reaction to Katherine May’s recent post entitled How to light the dark months: A Manifesto for winter light. May was the breakout author of 2020’s Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times. She helped recast my vision and expectations of winter. I’m still not sold on needing winter, but I’m warming up to the idea.
The autumnal equinox recalibrates the daylight. Not only does it lead to shorter days, but the quality of light also seems to change. It’s like someone down-clicked the brightness on the photo editor. The sky gets gauzy, and I feel the lack of vitamin D, with all its requisite mood benefits, to the core of my being.
I’ll spend the next few months starting my day in front of a Verilux Happy Light. Does it help? Like most things, it helps a percentage. Given this change in my schedule, May’s emphasis on winter light piqued my interest.
I have been a Seasonal affected disorder (SAD) sufferer most of my life. I live in the Northeast, and the cold, lethargic winter days with less sunlight can bring mental health challenges. So, when May rolled out yet another tidbit about winter, I was all ears but also surprised.
Her adding to what she’s already said shows me there’s always more to learn, and there’s help in repeated reminders. We needn’t be original at all times. And in that spirit, I want to offer some hard-won pointers here.
It is less a guide about deeper spiritual practices, which I assume you are engaged in; this will be more a guide to mental and emotional help or tips for the SAD sufferer.
A few recommendations and an epiphany.
A stable
Have a stable of voices that give you a steady stream of regular reading, thought notes, and encouragement. These will become guides who can help navigate the wintering months. Thankfully, the era in which we live has many access points, apps, and means for connecting.
There are a few requirements to be in the stable.
Routine
These voices are routine. You want someone who is in rotation pretty regularly. They’re doing daily, weekly, biweekly, or even multiple daily offerings of their input. Winter's darkness, gloom, and sinking dampness are unrelenting; it all coalesces into a steady, insidious visitor. It warrants at least an equal routine of counter-programming. If a person posts once in a blue moon, they aren’t exactly to be counted as a voice in your stable.
One voice in my stable is Dawn Mauricio, who has leveraged apps like Mighty and WhatsApp to offer a steady beat of encouragement around mindfulness. She’s created a growing community that orients towards introspection and self-compassion. There are moments of encouragement and a regular reorienting that are helpful. Find your Dawn. It may be Dawn or someone similar.
Joy
The voices in your stable are joy-oriented. There’s enough bleak, dire, and fear-based news; it’s steady and unavoidable. Your stable of voices is oriented towards ‘things above. They are pointing us to better versions of ourselves and our world. They are creative and open to evolving into what represents goodness. Not Pollyanna or avoidant of the dark but naming the good even though darkness exists.
Real
They’re real. Even if we are self-assured and know we are graciously loved people with worth separate from our accomplishments, the filtered perfection of social media can instigate feelings of inferiority and comparison with real life. The online persona of some will give a routine spark of jealousy. It’s meant to. And these accounts are sometimes obvious, other times subtle, and what gives me a feeling of inferiority might be benign for you. Most of us know ‘try hards’ when we see them. Ask yourself what you feel when you visit the work being done. If it seems too slick or doesn’t acknowledge a need to learn, hit that subscribe button again — to unsubscribe.
How now do you live?
The online self-help industrial complex breeds a kind of mental agreement without much change. If we’re stuck in a doom scroll, we aren’t open to doing anything with even what we find true. So, we need actionable steps and progress. This is where your own journaling or progress tracking is helpful. However, there is a wintering caveat.
Wintering caveat
This is not the time to remake yourself necessarily. Yes, it would be best if you moved forward, but this is not a season for bursting forth. (Credit goes to May for helping me here.) Of course, there will be exceptions, but generally, things are slowed by steady rounds of colds and flu, weather-cancelled plans, and a generally sluggish everything with compressed daylight hours. You can think you will become an entirely different version of yourself on January 1st, but the meeting to announce it will likely be canceled and rescheduled for March.
We must accept the season as one of slower progress. This is where snowmelt seeps into our roots, and our growth all but stops. This makes working on reasonable action steps and connecting with people you are accountable to all the more necessary. In winter, our community usually goes the way of maple leaves and tulips, so it will take some tenacity to remain connected to others who are invested in your forward progress and you in theirs.
It won’t last
Regularly remind yourself of the impermanence of everything, even winter. Like clouds coming into the sky and passing, our thoughts, emotions, and present conditions are not forever. They only have the power we give them.
An epiphany
None of this is revolutionary; it’s more a well-timed word. But I did have a small epiphany. In her book, Joyful, Ingred Fetell Lee made a side note about eating, which struck a cord. Winter can be a time of carb loading for marathons I’m not running. I struggle with cravings and snacking on things that aren’t good for me. (The holidays don’t help). But Lee pointed out that some of our cravings may be our minds seeking sensory stimulation. And it was an Aha! The drab, brown, soggy, overcast days of winter don’t make me hungry; they make me sense starved. What’s more appealing than a pantry full of brightly colored packages with salt and sugar highs at the ready? Here’s Lee:
When I do have a snack craving, I try to pause and ask myself if what I'm feeling is a food hunger or a sense hunger and, if the latter, if there's anything else I can do about it. I try to make my office a haven of abundance, with a string of bright pom-poms, some colorful nautical flags, and a collection of postcards from favorite art exhibits.
Dashes of colors, textures, and even a fresh soundscape of bird song work against the foggy void and blah days of winter. Sense your way through cravings! Love it.
Get outside
There’s a Nordic expression: There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes. Nature heals, even if it’s cold. Touch grass with your feet, and a host of sensations to survive a week or two can race through your body.
Finally, May’s post from a few weeks ago here on Substack had this to say in closing.
Take SAD seriously
For some, the lack of winter light will cause serious mental and physical difficulties, and if that’s you, don’t dismiss or diminish it. Winter doesn’t have to be a season of suffering. Some of the ideas above might help, but there are also a range of other therapies available - talk to your doctor. There’s an excellent guide here from UK mental-health charity Mind. Even if you don’t feel that your suffering is severe, consider taking steps to stay happy and well during winter - for example, because I live in a northern climate, I take a daily Vitamin D supplement in autumn and winter as recommended by the NHS.
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t conclude by saying it’s really important to stay physically active. We can all do a little better there.
So, I’m curious: what are your winter light hacks? Who is in your stable? Let me know in the comments.
Be well, Feral Souls.