Listening Now Blog

Marsha Stopa has an interesting job.  She coaches people through the winter blues.  I was intrigued by this idea, as winter in Australia doesn’t resemble winter in the northern hemisphere or as depicted in Disney films.  I never really think about the winter blues much.  What I’ve learned from Marsha is that the principles of getting the most out of winter apply even to our diluted southern hemisphere winter.   

This is a guest post by Marsha on how to listen to yourself in winter.  For my southern hemisphere friends, I hope you gain something of value for the final month of winter we’re experiencing now.  And for my northern hemisphere friends, some thought starters for you as summer draws to a close.

Long summer walks are noisy adventures full of the songs of birds and buzz of bugs. Summer demands to be heard.

Long winter walks, in contrast, are a meditation set to the rhythm of my footsteps in a muffled landscape. Finally, after the din of summer, I can hear my quiet self.

Warmth on many levels

I listen to my need for warmth. Because this most basic, primal survival need is met, I relax into the soothing textures of handmade afghans and scarves. I enjoy the warmth of a sweater in progress on my lap and a cat who insists on sharing the yarn.

Wine and conversation with a friend by the fireplace in winter tends to travel more introspective paths than animated summer evening talks where we solve the problems of the world. That warm glow of friendship holds me tight as I head back home through the cold.

The call of cravings

I listen to my cravings for food, those persistent, nagging little aches that pull me toward pasta for dinner, again, and ignore the vegetables and salad greens in the refrigerator. The louder the cravings, the more I know I’m falling into the grip of the winter blues. While what my body needs is more protein and complex carbs,  what I hear is the plea for comfort food – pasta, cookies and sweets.

The energy of light

I listen to my reaction to light. Watching the weak and timid morning light peering in the front windows is like greeting an old friend who finally showed up. On sunny winter days my energy jumps, like an engine in high gear. I sigh in relief at sunshine sparkling on the snow. You can hear it in people’s voices in the grocery store.

It’s the same sense of fullness I notice after my morning light therapy sessions at my desk. The day ahead is manageable, along with the cold. Even the early dusk and sunset doesn’t trigger the usual sinking feeling before the comfort of the dark settles down.

Finding beauty in the grays

I listen to my yearning for beauty as I stare at the grayed winter landscape. I’m still training my eye to discern and appreciate nature’s limited palette during the cold season and not lump everything into one pot of gray. A painting teacher taught me that most of nature is hundreds of beautiful shades of gray tinged with blue, green, red, or yellow.

I study the stark outlines of trees against the flat winter sky, drawing the thick and thin lines and angles in my mind’s eye. Patterns of blue and purple shadows never seen in summer stretch long between the houses. A traffic light becomes a surprising shot of color.

The depth of winter silence

I listen to my love of silence as a blanket of snow drapes the city, offering a depth of quiet rare in summer on the same streets. It’s oddly comforting to walk outside and be startled by the quiet.

Still and present

I listen to my need for the stillness and solitude winter provides, for the cold slap in the face that forces us to be fully present and aware of where we are. Longing for summer and complaining about winter splits our energy, projecting us into the future and leaving us with less than enough to be fully here now.

As the planet cycles through the seasons, the simple fact is summer wouldn’t exist without winter, nor would we appreciate it as much. Just like the complementary colors red and green, one sets off the beauty of the other.

Tips to listen to your winter self

1. Walk to listen. Practice walking with no purpose other than to notice what you can hear from yourself. Cold in small doses does wonders to sharpen your attention. Once you get past your reaction to the cold, other thoughts emerge as your attention sharpens.

2. Layer in warmth. Add a layer under your shirt or sweater. Many people, especially women, think a long-sleeve sweater should be warm enough. Keeping a layer of warm air against your body will keep your core organs warm and the rest of you warmer.

3. What makes you feel warm and protected in winter? Thick woolen sweaters and afghans? A mug of steaming hot chocolate laced with brandy? A houseful of friends laughing? A thick novel and comfy slippers?

4. What cravings do you hear? Remind yourself that carb cravings indulged now mean more gray fog in the brain and lethargy later, amplified by the lack of sunshine. Put the fruit, veggies, cheese and nuts on the top shelves in the refrigerator, not the bottom, so you can override the carb calls with a short reach.

5. Notice how light affects you. Pay attention to how you react to light, real and artificial, bright and dim. You may benefit from light therapy to reset your body clock and give your brain the stimulus it needs during the darker months.

6. Find unexpected beauty. Make it a game to look for shadow patterns, silhouettes, surprise colors in the winter landscape. Take your camera with you when you walk and shoot lots of photos, just for fun. You’ll engage and enjoy winter differently.

7. Listen to the winter silence. How loud are your thoughts in winter? Do you have to listen harder, or do they resonate more clearly in the silence? What’s waiting to be spoken in the spring?

What will you listen to this winter? Tell us in the comments.

About the Author: Marsha Stopa is a winter blues coach and author of the free email course Secrets to Beating the Winter Blues and free Light Therapy Lamp Guide at the Winter Blues Coach blog.