Winter as an Invitation to Slow Down
By: Rana Rimawi, PsyD
These days, my walks through the park look very different than they do in the warmer months of summer and spring. As a therapist, I’m used to paying attention, and winter seems to sharpen that awareness even more. I find myself noticing more… both around me and within me. The setting has changed: fewer people, barren trees, icy patches that require more attention with each step. I notice how my body feels… my hands and cheeks growing colder the longer I stay outside, my pace naturally slowing. I also notice what’s missing. There’s less time to pull out my phone to answer a text message or change a song if I am listening to music. I find myself missing the warmer days when I could just stop and sit on a bench or lie on the grass and read for hours. Winter strips me of that privilege.
It’s easy to focus on the discomfort and sense of loss that winter brings. After all, it is the season of death awaiting the rebirth that springtime brings. The cold, the darkness, the limitations of winter– it can all feel frustrating and bleak. But I’d like to offer an alternative: viewing winter not as something to simply endure, but as an invitation to slow down, get creative, and practice gratitude in a different way than we are used to.
Winter may feel like it takes freedoms away, but it also offers us something in return: the opportunity to be more flexible in our choices and our perspective. When the external world quiets and the daylight runs shorter, we’re gently nudged inward both metaphorically and physically. We’re asked to move with more intention, to be more present in our bodies, and to notice what we actually need.
In many ways, winter naturally encourages mindfulness. We walk more carefully. We notice sensations more easily; the cold air, the tension in our shoulders, the desire to get warm. There’s less multitasking and more being. This kind of awareness is something we often work toward intentionally in therapy, yet winter invites it without having to try so hard.
Slowing down doesn’t mean giving things up entirely, it means finding new ways to nourish ourselves and expand our creativity. Enjoyment may look different this season: a quiet afternoon at the cinema, lingering in a warm cafe, getting lost in a book, lighting a candle at home, cooking or baking something from scratch, or allowing ourselves to rest without guilt. These moments may be smaller, but they can be deeply regulating for our nervous systems and supportive of our mental wellbeing. It can also help to gently bring color and warmth back into our days, especially when the world outside feels gray or sparse. This could look like a vase of fresh flowers, a meal full of bright vegetables, or an afternoon spent painting or creating together. When the landscape feels muted, these sensory moments can gently brighten our mood and remind us that nourishment can be simple and accessible in our own homes.
Time outside can be part of that nourishment too, even in winter. While it may be tempting to stay indoors until spring, gentle contact with nature can shift our mood more than we expect, such as taking a short walk in the crisp air, listening to the sound of snow crunching underfoot, and noticing the stillness of bare trees and the way light reflects differently off their branches. All of these small sensory experiences invite us back into our bodies and into the present moment. Research consistently shows that even brief time outdoors can reduce stress and improve mood, offering a quiet reset for both mind and body.
For parents, winter also presents a powerful opportunity. The way we talk about the season matters. Our perspectives can scaffold for children how to tolerate discomfort, adapt when things aren’t ideal, and find beauty even when circumstances feel limiting. When we model flexibility, patience, and curiosity, we teach children that not every season needs to be rushed through— and that slowing down can be meaningful and enjoyable. These moments are co-regulation at work: our calm becomes their calm. When we soften our expectations and move through the season with steadiness, children borrow that steadiness from us, learning not just through words but through the felt sense of being alongside someone who is grounded.
Winter doesn’t ask us to be upbeat or productive. It asks us to be honest, present, and gentle with ourselves. And perhaps that, too, is a kind of freedom often forgotten in the brisk air.
Photos taken in Prospect Park by Rana Rimawi, PsyD
References:
Lobo, F. M., & Lunkenheimer, E. (2020). Understanding the parent-child coregulation patterns shaping child self-regulation. Developmental Psychology, 56(6), 1121–1134. https://doi.org/10.1037/dev0000926
Passmore, H. A., Yargeau, A., & Blench, J. (2022). Wellbeing in Winter: Testing the Noticing Nature Intervention During Winter Months. Frontiers in psychology, 13, 840273. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2022.840273
