Friday Thread: What Gets You Through Winter?
What are your beautiful, messy, maybe even cringy practices that help you winter?
I struggle with winter. It can feel relentless. Not seeing the sky. The cold that threatens to settle into my soul. Everything feeling just that little bit harder.
But I’m trying… my hope is that somewhere is the midst of the frost, there is magic.
I want to believe in the possibilities of hyyge.
I want to believe that cosiness could be an antidote to my lethargy this season.
I want to believe that fairy lights can fix everything.
So today, I thought I’d share my small rituals, the tiny sparks, that carry me through.
Maybe you could share yours and we’ll all get through this winter just that little less grumpy and that little more hopeful.
A favourite mug cradling my first coffee of the day.
The crackle of a pub fire, the glow of a candle even at Wednesday night dinner, or a bright therapy lamp shining on my face.
A slow start spent reading while the rest of the house sleeps.
Fairy lights strung up like whispers of warmth in the shadows.
Three hot-water bottle days and the sheer joy of fuzzy M&S socks
Maybe it’s a daily walk (even when it’s hard to leave a warm car), or noticing how frost transforms the world into something quieter, more luminous.
Perhaps it’s a stupidly over-the-top hot chocolate, a bad (but oh so good) mind-numbing, life-escaping Christmas movie marathon, or stealing my kids weighted blanket that feels like a hug.
What are your tiny, beautiful, messy or cringy practices that transform even the darkest of days into something more bearable?
What are your winter rituals?
What’s helping you embrace the season or simply survive it?
Share your winter self-care practices that are sustaining you until spring.
x Claire
P.S. This will be the focus of episode 2 of a special Holiday Season podcast mini-series. Look out for it at the beginning of next week. Listen to Episode 1 here and make sure you are subscribed to get Episode 2. This might actually be what’s helping me the most winter: there’s something very comforting about talking to you from my kitchen table.