In Defence of Doing Nothing This Winter
"The quieter you become, the more you can hear." - Ram Dass
Last Saturday, the clocks changed. As those dreaded 4pm nights draw in, winter feels palpably close, folding its dark and silky wings around us. The light retreats from our days, stealing heat and vitamin D, dimming our mood. In Liverpool, a sharp wind swept off the Mersey has started barrelling its way down the tunnelled streets, making even short journeys feel impossibly long. Night falls earlier, and the city is wrapped in stillness as a damp chill drives us into the home.
There is an energy of struggle that comes with this transition- a desperate cling to the brightness and warmth of summer that has decayed before our eyes. It happens every year, and yet becomes no easier to accept. The sudden darkness of this inevitable slog amplifies the loss of the sunny months of past, bringing with it an overwhelming silence. But perhaps this encroaching season, with its long nights at home and stretches of quiet, is not a loss, but an encouragement towards rest. A suggestion that we settle into stillness, sit among silence, and listen. Lazy girls and slow life champions- this one’s for you!
In yoga philosophy, we learn to adhere to the Yamas and Niyamas. The Yama Brahmacharya, with a literal meaning of ‘conduct consistent with Brahman’, can often be interpreted as the mindful use of our energy. Winter reminds us that resources- warmth, light, energy- are not infinite. It encourages us to honour rest just as much as action, and to conserve where possible. Equally, we can look to the Niyama Svadhyaya as a guiding principle for the silence of winter. Loosely meaning ‘self-inquiry’, Svadhyaya gently directs us to study the inner landscape. In the peacefulness of longer nights, we are given the opportunity to sit with the self and observe what arises. When the outer world diminishes, the inner expands- to quote the Sabi, “Silence isn’t empty. It’s full of answers”.
But resting isn’t always easy. The world today resents quiet, and rarely allows for it. Late-stage capitalism has transformed winter into countless micro-marketing opportunities: Halloween, Black Friday, Christmas; pumpkin spice everything and shopping galore. Simply put, rest and inaction are counter-intuitive to the capitalist life-cycle. Moreover, we are urged by productivity culture to fill spare time with distraction, disturbing stillness with constant action. Our minds are conditioned to need permanent stimulation, permanent noise. A time that to our ancestors signalled slowing down now means speeding up as brands scream the mantra: buy more, do more, be more. Exhausting, right? But the suggestion that we do nothing? Impossible. Like in silent meditation, the monkey mind resists, and will get its paws on whatever it can to create distraction. This constant drive of modern life counters nature’s rhythms, which uses winter to slow, shed and restore. Living in tune with this wisdom, conserving energy and embracing stillness, allows us to reclaim a connection with the natural world, even when sheltering indoors. Rest is not laziness- it’s natural.
Of course, we can’t completely withdraw. Excuse the clickbait, but I don’t endorse doing nothing, and sometimes we simply can’t. Humans need community: we need family and friends; we need to work and earn our living, to leave the house for daylight or a pint in a cosy pub. But by being intentional with our energy in winter, we can create our own warmth and conserve the light we do have. Here are some tangible recommendations for the season, to slow, shed and restore:
Practice yin yoga to cultivate patience in stillness, and practice vinyasa or ashtanga yoga to create heat from within. If you’re someone who has menstrual cycles, you can try aligning your practice with its phases. Read more here.
Pour love into the home. Fill your space with warming rituals and small comforts to make it a place of solace, not confinement.
Experience nature- if you can. I live in a city, so this can be difficult, but even a short walk, hearing the wind in your ears, is sometimes enough. If the weather is bad or you’re in the concrete jungle, you can interact with nature from inside. Observe the sky, light candles and watch flames, tend to plants, or track the phases of the moon. Nature continues to breathe beneath the frost and between the window panes.
Journal. There’s no better time than the season of quiet to pay attention to your thoughts through writing. Darkness encourages us to explore shadow work (find prompts here), or write in stream of consciousness and see what comes up. Explore through silence what it’s like to listen, even if briefly, and let the still, small voice within guide you through darkness.
“So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing”- T.S. Elliott.
Cover: ‘Jove Decedant’, Ramon Casas, 1899.