
Under the moonlit branches of Yggdrasil, Persephone and her modern-day therapist delve into the wisdom of wintering, exploring pomegranates, shadow work, and the balance between rest and renewal.
Gather ’round, weary traveler. The fire crackles, and the wind howls outside—a perfect setting to talk about the season of wintering. If you’re picturing blankets of snow and cozy nights in, you’re only halfway there. Wintering is more than an aesthetic; it’s a season of life that demands courage, reflection, and the audacity to rest. Yes, rest. Scandalous, I know.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. To understand wintering, we need to visit the realms of mythology, where the wisdom of the ages—and some seriously dramatic characters—await.
The Art of Rest as Resistance: The Persephone Paradox
If there’s one myth that screams “winter,” it’s the tale of Persephone. Kidnapped by Hades and dragged to the Underworld, she’s forced into a seasonal sabbatical while the earth above withers into dormancy. Harsh? Sure. But let’s not overlook the power in her story.
It’s worth noting that this is just one telling of Persephone’s myth. Like all great stories, it has been retold, reshaped, and reimagined countless times across cultures and ages. Some versions focus on her resilience, others on her role as a guide between worlds. Here, we lean into the interpretation of Persephone as a queen who learns to embrace the cyclical nature of life and rest.
Persephone doesn’t fight the seasons—she embodies them. Winter is her time to rest, reflect, and reign as Queen of the Underworld. (And honestly, who doesn’t need a break from humanity now and then?)
Like Persephone, you can reclaim your time in the shadows. Resting in a world obsessed with hustle is a rebellious act. So throw on your metaphorical crown, grab a blanket, and dare to be idle. After all, even queens need downtime.
Reflection prompt: If you were queen (or ruler) of your own Underworld, what would you declare off-limits during your season of rest?
Embracing the Shadows: Meeting Your Inner Minotaur
Ah, the shadows. Every good myth has them—monsters lurking in labyrinths, terrifying but unavoidable. In your personal myth, the shadow might be your fears, regrets, or unspoken truths. Whatever it is, this is the season to face it. (Don’t worry, Theseus isn’t coming to slay you.)
Wintering isn’t just a season of slowing down—it’s an invitation to venture into the labyrinth of your inner world, where the shadows lurk. Yes, shadows. Those parts of you you’d rather shove under a rug (or maybe lock in a metaphorical attic) are quietly calling for your attention.
Enter Jungian shadow work, the art of acknowledging the pieces of ourselves we’ve tucked away: fears, regrets, anger, or desires that didn’t fit into the tidy box of who we thought we should be. Carl Jung didn’t see these shadows as flaws; he saw them as untapped wisdom, waiting to be brought into the light. Think of them less like villains and more like misunderstood antiheroes in the myth of your life.
Shadow Work Techniques: Befriending the Beast
Start small. Imagine the Minotaur sipping tea in the labyrinth of your mind. What does it want to tell you?
Journaling Prompts: Ask yourself:
1️⃣ What parts of myself do I reject or feel ashamed of?
2️⃣ When do I feel most triggered, and what might that reveal about my unmet needs or fears?
3️⃣ What have I avoided addressing because it feels too messy or painful?
4️⃣ Creative Expression: Draw your shadow self as a creature. Is it a dragon guarding a treasure? A lost child in need of care? Sometimes, translating emotions into art makes them less intimidating.
5️⃣ Guided Reflection: Imagine meeting your shadow self in a safe space. What does it want to tell you? What wisdom does it carry? Let the answers unfold without judgment.
The goal isn’t to conquer or banish your shadow—it’s to listen and learn. Your shadow isn’t the villain of your story; it’s the part holding the clues to your authenticity.
Archetypal Wisdom: Everyone Has a Hades
In myths, shadow work often comes with a guide—someone (or something) who drags us kicking and screaming toward what we’d rather avoid. Think Hades pulling Persephone into the Underworld or Odin sacrificing his eye for wisdom.
In Jungian terms, Hades represents your shadow self—a figure that rules over what’s hidden, unconscious, and waiting to be explored. While he might seem menacing, Hades isn’t the villain of the story. He’s the keeper of deep, transformative truths. He’s the part of you that whispers, You can’t grow until you face this.
When you encounter your personal Hades—whether it’s a fear you’ve avoided or a truth you’ve been too scared to name—know this: it’s not here to destroy you. It’s here to make you whole.
Reflection prompt: If your shadow self were a mythical creature, what would it look like? More importantly, what would it need from you?
Emotional Normalization: Feeling All the Feels
Let’s be real: shadow work isn’t a fluffy walk in the snow. It stirs up emotions we’ve been taught to label as “bad” or “negative”—fear, sadness, anger, shame. But here’s the kicker: these emotions are just as valid as joy and love. They’re part of the human experience, not something to “fix.”
Instead of pushing these feelings away, try welcoming them as messengers. What if fear isn’t a warning to retreat but an invitation to grow? What if anger is an ally, showing you where change is needed?
Reflection prompt: What would it feel like to sit with your emotions, not as problems to solve but as teachers to learn from?
Integration: Becoming Whole
Shadow work isn’t about perfection. It’s about wholeness. Jung believed that integrating the shadow—acknowledging and accepting it—leads to authenticity. You don’t become “better” by ignoring your flaws; you become more you by embracing them.
So, as you winter, remember: the shadows you face aren’t trying to drag you down. They’re trying to lead you home.
Reflection prompt: What’s one part of yourself you’re ready to stop hiding and start holding with compassion?
Honoring Circadian Rhythms: The Dance of Sun and Moon
Winter is the perfect time to channel your inner lunar goddess—or if you prefer, tap into the wisdom of Máni, the Norse personification of the moon. The days grow shorter, the nights longer, and Máni rides his chariot across the darkened sky, reminding us that it’s okay to slow down. If Máni’s on night shift, why are you still hustling like it’s midsummer?
Here’s the cosmic memo: you don’t have to shine all the time. Remember Selene, the moon goddess, or Máni, who both work in phases? They weren’t busy blazing with solar energy 24/7, and neither should you be. Winter is a nudge—or let’s be real, a shove—toward syncing with nature’s rhythms.
Syncing with nature isn’t just poetic—it’s practical. Let the sun and moon dictate your schedule. Rise slower, work softer, and let the dark guide you toward rest. It’s like Máni himself is hitting “do not disturb” on your behalf.
Biological Insights: Why Máni and Sól Know Best
In Norse mythology, Máni, the moon, and Sól, the sun, have a sacred balance. This celestial dance isn’t just pretty—it’s essential for life. Similarly, your circadian rhythms depend on balancing light and dark.
When daylight fades earlier in winter, your brain produces more melatonin, nudging you toward rest. But artificial lights and screens can disrupt this natural process, leaving you wired when you should be winding down. Máni doesn’t shine with LED lights, so why are you?
And let’s not forget cortisol, your get-up-and-go hormone. Without morning sunlight to trigger it, your body might feel like hitting snooze indefinitely. That doesn’t mean you’re lazy—it means you’re a creature of light and dark, just like the gods intended.
Seasonal Adjustments: Living Like a Norse Deity
Want to sync with your inner Máni or Sól? Here’s how to honor your rhythms:
🌈 Wake with Light: If winter mornings feel like an eternal Fimbulwinter (Norse mythology’s endless winter), consider using a dawn-simulation lamp to mimic Sól’s gentle rise.
🏔️ Work with Peaks: Notice when your energy peaks during the day—maybe it’s mid-morning or early afternoon—and save demanding tasks for then. Let the quieter hours be, well, quiet.
✨ Dim with Dusk: Embrace the darkness like Máni. Turn down bright lights, light candles, and put away screens after sundown. Máni wouldn’t doom-scroll; he’d tell stories by the fire.
Contrast With Cultural Norms: Stop Fighting the Fimbulwinter
Norse mythology teaches us that Fimbulwinter—a long, harsh winter—is a time of survival, not sprinting. Yet modern culture seems to expect us to perform as if every day is Ragnarök, the end-of-days battle. Spoiler: even the gods didn’t fight all the time.
Your body knows it’s winter, even if your to-do list doesn’t. Stop resisting the urge to slow down—it’s not laziness; it’s wisdom. If the wolves Sköll and Hati, who chase Sól and Máni, can take a break when the sun and moon set, so can you.
Connection to Self-Compassion: Rest Like a God
When you honor your rhythms, you’re not just resting—you’re practicing self-compassion. Imagine Máni whispering, “Take it easy, mortal. Even gods need downtime.” Wintering isn’t a time to conquer; it’s a time to recalibrate. Give yourself permission to follow nature’s lead.
Reflection prompt: What would your days feel like if you aligned with the rhythms of Máni and Sól, instead of the constant buzz of your inbox?
The Wisdom of Hibernation: Lessons from Bear and Björn
In Norse mythology, Björn (whose name literally means “bear”) was said to transform during winter, retreating to the woods for solitude and survival. Sound familiar? It should. Animals—and mythic shapeshifters—understand the power of hibernation: pulling back isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom.
Winter is your chance to take a page out of Björn’s saga (or the bear’s playbook) and retreat to your metaphorical cave. Hibernation isn’t about hiding—it’s about conserving energy, nurturing yourself, and preparing for the next season of growth.
Crafting Your Modern-Day Cave
You don’t need fur or claws to embrace this instinct. Your “cave” can be anything that creates a sense of calm and restoration:
The Essentials: Think warm socks, a crackling fireplace (or a Netflix version), a cozy blanket, and your favorite book or podcast.
Boundaries Like a Bear: Saying “no” is a skill Björn would approve of. Pro tip: “No” is a complete sentence. If bears don’t apologize for hibernating, why should you?
Stillness as Strength: Make time for quiet moments—whether that’s journaling, meditating, or just staring into the winter sky and imagining yourself as a Norse deity in repose.
Hibernation isn’t laziness; it’s strategic survival. Björn and the bears emerge stronger after their time in the cave, and so will you.
Reflection prompt: What would it look like to create a space where you could hibernate—physically, emotionally, or both?
Wintering and Mental Health: Embracing the Darkness Within
Winter has a way of slowing things down—and not always in a comforting, cozy way. For many, it also brings a sense of heaviness, isolation, or struggle. Whether it’s the dim light of the season or the natural challenges of slowing down, wintering intersects deeply with mental health. But here’s the truth: it’s okay to not feel okay during this time.
Navigating Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)
In winter, our circadian rhythms can go haywire, affecting mood and energy levels. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)—a type of depression linked to seasonal changes—can make these months feel particularly heavy.
If this resonates, know there are tools that can help:
☀️ Light Therapy: Consider using a light therapy box to mimic natural sunlight and help regulate your mood.
❄️ Daily Structure: Even small routines can bring comfort and stability during long, unstructured winter days.
🌳 Professional Support: If the season feels too heavy to carry alone, reaching out to a therapist or counselor can make all the difference.
Reverse SAD: Thriving in Darkness
For some, winter is a season of thriving. The dim light and quiet pace can feel like a welcome reprieve, offering space for creativity, introspection, and rest. Recognizing this diversity of experience is key. There’s no “right” way to feel in winter—it’s all valid.
Mental Health and the Pressure to Perform
One of winter’s sneakiest traps is the cultural pressure to treat it like any other season. You’re expected to maintain the same energy, productivity, and social output, even when your body is practically begging for rest. The result? Exhaustion, burnout, and self-doubt.
Here’s where wintering becomes an act of self-compassion. By aligning with the season’s slower pace, you give yourself permission to pause, reflect, and recharge. Instead of fighting your feelings, you can honor them as part of your natural rhythm.
Reflection Prompts for Winter Mental Health
1. How does this season affect my emotions, energy, and thoughts?
2. What do I need to feel more supported in winter?
3. How can I honor both my challenges and my strengths during this season?
Reflection and Dreaming: Oracles and Quiet Prophecies
Winter isn’t about doing—it’s about dreaming. Think of it as consulting your inner oracle, sitting by the fire, gazing into the smoke, and asking: What comes next?
But here’s the twist: dreaming isn’t about goals or to-do lists. It’s about possibilities. It’s about letting the mind wander without expectation, like an ancient storyteller spinning tales for the sheer joy of it.
Cycles of Death and Rebirth: The Wisdom of Yggdrasil
In Norse mythology, Yggdrasil, the great World Tree, weaves together the cycles of life, death, and rebirth. Its branches stretch to the heavens while its roots dig deep into the underworld, embodying the balance of endings and beginnings. Even the gods understand that creation requires destruction—just ask Odin, who hung from Yggdrasil for nine days, sacrificing himself to himself to gain wisdom. (A bit dramatic, but effective.)
Winter is a time for the metaphorical “falling of leaves.” It’s the season of endings—letting go of what no longer serves us, shedding old identities, and clearing the way for something new.
Endings as Preparation for Renewal
Just as the earth lies dormant in winter, waiting for spring’s renewal, so too can we pause and honor the natural cycle of release and regeneration. Death isn’t just an end—it’s fertile ground for growth.
Reflection Practice: What parts of your life feel ready to be released? Perhaps it’s an old habit, a worn-out belief, or even a relationship that’s no longer aligned with who you are.
Releasing isn’t easy—there’s a reason the Norse saw the end of one cycle as the beginning of another. But like the falling leaves, this process is necessary to make space for the seeds of spring.
Rebirth Through the Quiet
Rebirth doesn’t happen with fanfare. It happens in the quiet—beneath the snow, in the dark soil, in the silent preparation. Wintering reminds us that transformation takes time and patience. The new version of you won’t bloom overnight, and that’s okay.
Think of Baldr, the Norse god of light and purity, whose death led to the eventual renewal of the world. Even in darkness, there’s the promise of light returning.
Practical Steps for Embracing the Cycle
🧙🏼♀️ Create a Letting-Go Ritual: Write down what you’re releasing and bury it in the snow (or burn it, depending on your style). Honor the endings in your life, big or small.
🌱 Plant Metaphorical Seeds: After you release, ask yourself: What would I like to nurture in the coming months? Write it down, but don’t rush to act. Let the seeds rest until spring.
Reflection Prompt
What do you need to release this winter to create space for what’s to come?
A Final Note from the Storyteller
Wintering isn’t glamorous, but it’s necessary. Persephone reigns in the Underworld, reclaiming her power through rest. The Minotaur waits within the labyrinth, holding the keys to our shadows. Hades, ever the guide, invites us to confront uncomfortable truths and embrace transformation. Björn retreats into his cave, conserving strength for the seasons to come. Máni and Sól remind us of the balance between light and dark, while Yggdrasil stands tall, embodying the endless cycles of life, death, and renewal.
These characters—mythical, archetypal, and cosmic—are here to remind us of something simple yet profound: rest, reflection, and renewal are as essential to our story as growth and action. Even the gods, with their boundless power, embraced the wisdom of slowing down. Why shouldn’t we?
So, what’s your wintering story? Are you the queen, the oracle, the bear, or perhaps something else entirely? Whatever archetype you inhabit, remember this: even the darkest nights hold the seeds of light. Embrace the season, embrace the myths, and most importantly, embrace the rest that guides you home.
Written by Jen Hyatt, a licensed psychotherapist at Storm Haven Counseling & Wellness in Temecula, California.
Disclaimer: One Myth Among Many
The information provided in this blog post is for educational and informational purposes only and should not be considered professional mental health advice. The myths and stories shared here are just one interpretation among countless others. Persephone, Hades, Björn, Máni, Sól, and Yggdrasil have lived many lives through the voices of storytellers across generations and cultures. The versions included in this blog are adapted to fit the themes of wintering, reflection, and renewal. They are not definitive but are meant to inspire and offer a lens for exploring your own journey.
Additionally, while this blog touches on mental health, it is not a substitute for professional advice. Whether you’re navigating challenges, seeking deeper self-awareness, or striving to optimize your life, working with a therapist or counselor can provide meaningful support and insight tailored to your journey.