Mumbling about: Windows in winter
This season and the darkness it brings can take its toll. Here's a light to guide your way.
This week’s Mumbling is inspired by the brilliant and thoughtful
, specifically this newsletter on staying soft and remaining open to life, no matter what it brings.In it, she talks about softening into the winter darkness:
“As we move toward what is the holiday season for many, may you soften… into darkness being a window offering you clarity rather than something that only holds what hurts.”
In the past, my feelings towards autumn and winter have yo-yoed violently between excitement and dread. A few years ago, it was the latter that haunted me during the colder months. Particularly, it was the dark that triggered it, and no amount of festive cheer did anything to abate it. The dark creeping in at 4pm, the way it feels as though it’s pressing in on you. I used to hate going to work and then heading home in the dark, and though the pandemic granted me the bonus of home working, somehow it only made night’s encroachment worse.
I think now that was due to a couple of things: the way the pandemic lockdowns cut off all sense of community and human connection (even if you felt like you didn’t have a community, trust me, you did in some form, whether that was your office or after work trips to the supermarket), and the depression and anxiety I was dealing with at the time. Depression can make you feel utterly alone, and this is often only compounded by the darker seasons, when people seem to retreat indoors. So, throw in a bit of seasonal affective disorder and you’ve got yourself a very depressing party.
I wanted to ensure that this year, even though I’m in a much better place, I wouldn’t let the gloom of the winter months work its way inside. And I’ve been doing good as night settles at 5pm, but I wanted to understand why. What can I take away from this winter to keep me afloat, to keep me content, in the many winters ahead?
Lisa Olivera’s description of darkness in the colder months “being a window offering clarity rather than something that only holds what hurts” made me think of windows at night, the way they go from allowing you a view of the world outside to reflecting yourself back at you. Stand in front of a dark window and you see your mirror image. It can feel claustrophobic - or, if you’re anything like me, it can leave you waiting to see something more, something sinister, anything that isn’t you. When you’re already feeling trapped and on edge, this inability to see the world beyond your four walls is stifling.
But it can also be an opportunity for release. During this season, we’re faced with our reflection. We naturally curl inwards, slow down, consider - something that
calls ‘wintering’. This mirror image of ourselves reflected in the darkened window can be terrifying. As life slows, we’re suddenly faced with all the things we’ve been putting off or denying. Yet that’s the thing - we can’t put them off forever, especially when the actual things we’re repressing are integral parts of ourselves - our flaws, our failures - aspects that make up the self, whether we like it or not. There is no running from them, only working on them. Winter is inevitable.So whilst the darkness will hold hurt, it can also hold clarity - clarity of thought, clarity of self, clarity of experience. That’s why things like therapy and journaling and even the arts exist. We must face that window of darkness with ourselves at the centre of it. We must work through the dark, sift through it, accept it. Only then can we know the light again.
Some lanterns to light your way
Katherine May’s book, ‘Wintering’.
I write a couple of sentences in this five-year journal every night in bed. It helps to shine clarity on my thoughts, emotions and the events of the day. I’m also excited to look back on how far I’ve come each year and reminisce.
‘Maybe You Should Talk to Someone’ by Lori Gottlieb, a book that has been invaluable in my therapist training, especially when it comes to learning to reflect and heal.
This self-reflection guide by Happiful, whose monthly magazine I adore.
Loved this one!