The Winter Solstice
A Pause, Not a Push
There’s something quietly powerful about the Winter Solstice.
It’s the shortest day of the year, the most darkness we’ll experience and yet, it marks the beginning of the return to light. Not all at once. Not dramatically. Slowly. Steadily. Almost imperceptibly at first.
I love that about it.
We live in a culture that’s constantly asking us to push forward, level up, do more, especially this time of year. There’s pressure to wrap things up neatly, to reflect perfectly, to set intentions that feel big and impressive.
But the Winter Solstice doesn’t ask that of us.
It invites us to pause.
To sit with what is.
To acknowledge what’s been heavy.
To rest without needing to justify it.
This season reminds us that rest is not a detour, it’s part of the cycle.
Nature isn’t blooming right now. It’s conserving. Rooting. Integrating. And somehow, we forget we’re allowed to do the same.
If you’re feeling quieter than usual, more introspective, less motivated to hustle you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re responding appropriately to the season you’re in.
Ways I Like to Honor the Winter Solstice
Nothing elaborate. Nothing performative. Just small rituals that help me listen inward.
Lighting a candle and naming one thing I’m ready to release from the past year
Writing down one thing I’m genuinely proud of, even if no one else saw it
Moving my body gently, with the intention of letting go rather than pushing through
Going to bed earlier and letting rest be the ritual
These moments don’t fix anything. They don’t solve everything.
But they create space. And space is where clarity usually finds us.
If You’re Carrying a Lot Right Now
Let this be your permission slip.
You don’t need to have it all figured out before the new year.
You don’t need a perfectly worded intention.
You don’t need to be “ready” yet.
The light is coming back, even if today still feels dark.
Trust the slow return.
Trust the quiet work happening beneath the surface.
Trust that rest counts.
This season isn’t asking you to become someone new.
It’s asking you to be with who you are.
And honestly, that’s enough.
Sending you permission to slow down, to rest deeply, and to trust the quiet work happening beneath the surface.
all my love,
Caitlin