My Winter Window Sit Spot

We've been snowed in for a week here in Southwestern Ontario, stuck inside a swirling snow globe with temperatures plummeting to -25°C, colder with the wind chill. It's not the worst winter we've had. Last year by this time the snow was piled higher than my kitchen window getting ready to kiss the eavestroughs. I would stand there day in and day out, washing my dishes, staring at a wall of white wondering how and when it would be over. I'd be lying if I said last winter didn't break me a little.

This winter has been for the most part... a more typical winter season. The freeze-thaw cycles have ensured: that there *hopefully will be minimal roof collapses this year, that we still get that sunkissed vit d on our faces and when the temps climb over 1°C, it instills a sense of relief that maybe...just maybe winter's on her way out.

But it's only late January and winter is just nicely settling in and showing us that she...is in fact, in control.

In the herbal world you'll often hear the term sit spot. It's where deeper connections happen. Where we pause and take the time to truly listen to nature or a specific plant. To observe and understand it. To work on ourselves inwardly, and to foster relationships with the world around us.

I've had many sit spots over the years. Sometimes I sit with specific herbs I feel called too, sometimes it's just a general area of my garden I've set up the swing, or the deck or the edge of my forest. It's wherever I can think clearly and build trust in my own knowing.

To be honest though, I never really thought of having a sit spot in winter. I mean why would I? Everything green is under 4 feet of snow. I suppose I could sit with the cedar, pine, and spruce that surround me, but let's be honest here... they're not really that tempting to cozy up beside when it's -10°C out... actually they would be pretty nice to snuggle into if stuck outside during a blizzard….

There have been two consistent spots I have frequented this winter. First is the corner spot of the couch that is conveniently located beside a window overlooking the gazebo where my peonies, roses and hydrangeas live. The other is on the seat of our 4wheeler, thankfully, equipped with a plow that has for this past week served as my sit spot multiple times per day. It takes 1 hour to plow the lane on a good day and 2+ hours when theres been significant snowfall.

This time outside in the elements... the monotony of pushing fresh powdery snow... the sounds of early season birds scouting the area, the simple screen-free time spent within natures frigid touch, has allowed me space to think. And yet thankfully, being outside in the middle of a blizzard, my mind doesn't actually think about anything at all...

As someone who loves nature, I think I speak for many when I say.. winter is not usually our favourite season. It takes awhile to lean into her beauty. To accept what it is she truly has to offer us… which I feel is: trust, restraint and repair.

Trust that after the darkness and the cold, everything green will return. That everything is cyclical and to remind us that while today might be dark, stormy and unbearable that tomorrow may be filled with sunshine and warmth. Winter teaches us that stepping back does not mean falling behind.

Restraint reminds us to retreat and rest. Winter is no time for busy work. It's time to create boundaries and be intentional about what we're not doing. What should we be conserving and what should be let go. We don't need to force anything right now, we can hold it close and just sit with it. There's time in this season.

Repair, this is where simple rhythms shine. Where we recoup and can get more sleep with fewer expectations. Winter is where the deep hidden work happens. Just like the thick blanket of snow providing dark spaces for the soil to rebuild structure, winter allows us the space and time to recalibrate our nervous systems for the next season ahead.

Winter has taught me that it's ok to carry less without collapsing. It's ok to leave space for nothing in order to grow something in the future. Winter doesn't ask to be tended to or improved upon.

She asks only to be witnessed.

There are so many places out there telling us all these things we should be doing over the winter months: planning gardens, learning a new skill, mending all the things, canning this and that, renovations and house repairs, weight loss and self improvements.... Yes those things are great activities for the dark months, but I am also 💯 ok with sitting on the corner spot of my couch, coffee in hand, no phone, just watching…. the same trees, the same gazebo, the same stretch of sky. Noticing how it changes everyday or how it doesn‘t. I get to notice when the first bird comes to scout the feeders, which has happened already.... a couple weeks ago a sweet chickadee stopped ever so briefly to check the window feeder. I can only explain the feeling I got seeing that first bird show up as a touch of relief and gratitude.

Winter may still be doing her deep work right now, but in these calm sit spot moments, I am humbly reminded that nothing apart from noticing is required of me this winter season.

~ K