Today is the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and the longest night. In the UK, the exact moment is around 3.03pm GMT. From here, the light returns, slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, but it returns.
I like that the solstice is both simple and profound.
Simple, because it is astronomy. The Earth tilts, the sun takes its lowest path in our sky, and daylight is at its scarcest.
And profound, because so many of us feel winter in our bodies. The darker mornings. The early dusk. The way energy can dip, motivation can thin, and worries can feel louder at 2am than they do at 2pm.
If you have been carrying a heavy season, the solstice can be a quiet marker. A turning point. Not a dramatic transformation, but a gentle fact.
From here, the light returns.
A note about ‘darkness’
A lot of solstice posts talk about ‘the darkness within’. That language can be comforting for some people, and unsettling for others.
If you have lived through trauma, depression, or complicated grief, you might already have had more than enough darkness. You do not need to romanticise it.
Instead, you might simply acknowledge it.
This is a time of year when it can make sense to slow down. To lower the pressure on yourself to be bright, productive, positive, sociable, sorted. Some seasons are about endurance, not achievement.
What if winter is showing you something?
In counselling, I often notice that ‘darkness’ can mean one of a few things.
- It can mean fatigue, your nervous system needing rest.
- It can mean grief, something precious that has changed or been lost.
- It can mean a backlog of feelings, pushed down during the busy months.
- It can mean loneliness, the ache of not feeling met.
That last one matters. When people are struggling, it is often not because they are ‘weak’, but because they are carrying too much on their own.
So if the solstice invites anything, perhaps it is this.
Do not do winter alone if you do not have to.
A simple Winter Solstice pause (10 minutes)
If you like a practical ritual without it becoming too spiritual or too forced, try this.
1. Light
Light a candle, or switch on a small lamp. Sit with it for a minute. Let it be uncomplicated. Just light, in darkness.
2. Breathe
Put a hand on your chest or belly. Breathe slowly for five breaths. If your mind races, that is normal. Just return to the feeling of breathing.
3. Name
Gently complete these sentences, out loud or on paper.
- The hardest part of this season has been…
- Something I have been carrying is…
- Something I am ready to loosen my grip on is…
- One small thing that helps me is…
- A light I can turn towards is…
Small is the key word. Winter rarely responds well to big promises.
4. One next step
Choose one kind action for yourself in the next 24 hours. Something you will actually do.
- A walk in daylight.
- A hot bath.
- An early night.
- A message to a friend.
- A counselling enquiry you have been putting off.
One step is enough.
Making space for the new, without rushing it
The phrase ‘let go of what was to make space for the new’ can sound inspiring, but it can also land like pressure.
Letting go is not an event. It is usually a process.
Sometimes letting go looks like this.
- Accepting that you feel what you feel.
- Stopping an argument in your own head.
- Setting a boundary you have delayed.
- Allowing yourself to grieve properly.
- Forgiving yourself for not being ‘over it’.
And sometimes, the most honest version of letting go is simply this.
I cannot carry this in the same way next year.
That is a real beginning.
If winter feels too much
If your mood drops significantly in winter, or you notice anxiety rising, sleep becoming unsettled, or motivation disappearing, please take it seriously. It is common, and it is treatable, but it is also tough to push through alone.
Start with the basics: light, movement, routine, connection, and support.
If you are feeling unsafe, or having thoughts of harming yourself, reach out urgently to someone you trust, your GP, or call NHS 111. You can also contact Samaritans on 116 123.
A gentle closing
The solstice is not a demand to be hopeful.
It is simply a reminder that change can happen quietly, even when we cannot feel it yet.
If you are reading this in a hard season, I am holding the thought that there is light ahead for you, too.
Need support? If you are looking for counselling in Sheffield or online, you are welcome to get in touch via my contact page: https://inyourcommunity.org.uk/contact/