Nourishing Yin: Late Winter Ritual

Recently, I’ve sat at my desk, feeling the leanness of this late winter season. In Minnesota, mid to late February can feel as close to Spring as December does. Of course, this is not true. The days are getting longer and the sun stronger. Yet, it is still very cold. There are many weeks of bleak skies, freezing temps and crunchy snow yet before us.

By the end of February, we are well into the new year. And as I continue to set goals and dream about what I hope this year will hold, I feel a bit hopeless in this lean February time. There is not a great sense of abundance in late winter and my internal fires of ambition feel like dying embers rather than roaring flames (that I see on social media and every other external outlet of the world).

Instead, I feel called to slow down. Yes. Still.

I spent the first month of the new year in South America on a spiritual retreat. When I got home, I felt a need to get back to work. But it wasn’t a genuine desire fueled by passion, excitement and inspiration, rather it was out of desperation to start making money again. When I caught this I was disappointed and discouraged. Why did I feel the need to jump back into my life with full force when my intuition was telling me to take it easy? When I looked deeper, I discovered scarcity and fear. These are of course personal to me, but I think it’s common to feel this sense of scarcity during late-wintertime (even if you have a reliable stream of income). This was arguably the most dangerous time of year for our ancestors, and we carry those traumas in our bones. Late winter was when food stores were at their most meager, when the body was weakest from lack of sun and nutrition. And though in modern times we have access to abundant food during the winter, we are still deprived of the sun and our bodies are still weak from being inside, isolated and sedentary.

I have two points here (as any good Gemini would). One: it’s okay to not feel great right now. Two: it’s still winter; we’re still in the energy of Yin.

The Yin season is one of quiet, darkness and introversion. It’s the season where we are cradled in the arms of the Divine Mother and invited to the nutrient rich den of her womb. Here we become still, we listen, we wait. Often it can feel like nothing is happening, that we are waiting in darkness- waiting it out, whatever it is. In my experience, it is healing, rest and integrating life. Winter (Yin) is a spiritually rich time, one where I feel most connected to my intuition, psychic abilities and creative gifts. This energy is not bold. There’s no fire. Instead, it requires us to slow down- like really slow down- and get in touch with what is deep beneath the surface of our minds. The more you can slow down the more this energy will yield to you and the more you can use it for your own healing and spiritual growth.

Having lived in the north all my life, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to exist in a place with no winter. Yes, I realize everywhere has winter. But there is a difference to enduring deep northern winters with sub-zero temperatures, raging wind and snow and ice versus slightly cooler temps and shorter days. Northern winters do something to the spirit and the soul. I am sure of this. Most years, I feel like I’m just getting through it- especially at the end of February (when it feels like it will never end). But every Spring I am surprised and awed when I emerge into the light and warmth of May feeling like a caterpillar out of its cocoon, transformed into a butterfly. A spiritual transformation happens during the winter months. As with any transformation, you must allow it and be an active participant in its unfolding.

The entire winter season is about nourishing and tending our spiritual, mental and energetic roots- the roots that will support us when the energy shifts to Yang and we are ready to burst open and upward like bamboo shoots rocketing from the soil. Be patience dear one. This season is nourishing those unseen spaces within you. Your spirit is working behind the scenes to nourish and resolve what will support your growth later in the year. If you don’t feel the burning passion of forward movement, motivation and growth just yet, it’s okay. You’re not supposed to. Let the last drops of winter’s medicine seep in so that when the time comes to grow upward and outward your heart and spirit will be ready- you will have done your healing work and you will bloom with the full brilliance of your newfound wisdom.

Previous
Previous

Conversation with a Six-year-old

Next
Next

Full Moon in Leo: Embracing Vulnerability and Soul Direction