What the Winter Solstice Taught Me About Letting Go and Beginning Again
How Nature Made Me Rethink New Year's Resolutions
I won’t be setting New Year’s resolutions this year. And, here's why...
As we pass the Christmas festivities and head towards 2025, I have been reflecting on the conflicting energies of Winter Solstice and "The New Year". Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, invited us to turn inward. As the Earth tilts away from the sun, sustaining various degrees (depending on your location) of darkness, it’s a time to embrace rest, reflection, and renewal. Winter whispers for us to slow down, to listen, and to honor the stillness. Yet, modern life—with its relentless pace and societal expectations—often drowns out this call.
If we listen, we hear Nature asking us to be introspective, but culture demands external action- extravagant goals, major lifestyle changes, "New Year, New Me". The dichotomy couldn’t be starker. The Gregorian calendar dictates that January 1st marks a fresh start, a time to set ambitious goals and resolve to be "better". But how can we expect to leap forward when we’re naturally inclined to pause? Winter, by design, is a time for restoration, not revolution.
The lie
I now overstand that New Year’s resolutions are part of a broader lie we’ve been sold—one that tells us to override our natural rhythms in favor of constant productivity. It’s hard not to see the hand of capitalism at play, feeding on our desire for transformation by nudging us toward expensive gym memberships, trendy planners, and a barrage of gadgets. Remember, this is conveniently placed right after capitalism pushes us towards overindulgence during the 3-month holiday season. Coincidence...I think not! These promises of a 'new you' often come at the cost of neglecting what we truly need during this season—a chance to slow down, reflect, and reconnect with ourselves.
Don't get me wrong, I think it's great to have ambitions and an ongoing evolution of self, ideas, and goals. However, our current set up sets us up for failure and burnout, as we’re out of sync with both ourselves and the Earth. What if, instead of sprinting into January with a list of resolutions, we allowed ourselves to move at winter’s pace? What if we gave ourselves permission to rest and reflect, to dream and plan, so that by spring we’re truly ready to grow? Furthermore, ready to nurture and sustain that growth!
Nature’s lesson
The wisdom of Winter Solstice aligns beautifully with the element of Nature in the Circle of Self. Nature’s cycles—planting in the spring, tending in the summer, harvesting in the fall, and resting in the winter—teach us balance and vitality.
Living in harmony with these rhythms fosters connection, while ignoring them can lead to discontent and disconnection. This alignment makes me wonder: could Seasonal Affective Disorder stem more from our misalignment with these natural cycles than from the seasons themselves? How might honoring the natural rhythms of rest and renewal alleviate feelings of discontent or exhaustion during this time? What lessons can we learn from observing the hibernation of nature, and how might they apply to our mental and emotional health?
I have noticed, especially when I'm further north in the world, that I am more depressed, more anxious, more fatigued, and more hopeless when I'm resisting natural rhythms. For example, when I'm sleeping in past the sunrise, staying up long past the sunset, and attempting to do strenuous workouts during the luteal phase of my cycle, it feels like I'm running through sinking sand. In comparison, when I'm rising with the sun, starting to rest after sunset, and moving my body in ways that support the phase of my cycle, it feels like the universe is flowing with me. Nature stays doing what it knows best, it's my connection and alignment with it that changes. It’s a beautiful reminder of the power of our mindset and alignment with this element of the Circle.
My invitation to you
This New Year, I invite us all to resist the pressure to rush forward. Instead, take time to reflect on the past year. What have you harvested? What lessons and experiences have you gathered? What can you let go of, like leaves falling from a tree? And what dreams or intentions do you want to nurture in the coming months? By aligning with the rhythm of winter, you’ll find that when spring arrives, you’re not just eager to bloom—you’re ready!