Wintering, and how stillness is necessary for healing

This time four years ago, I had just moved into my new living space after my divorce and found myself asking a terrifying (to me) question: “What now”?

What I didn’t yet realize was that – fittingly, as winter settled in outside – I was entering a season of ‘wintering’. Winter is a time of stillness and reflection. Of looking inward. And it is oftentimes a time of melancholy.

It was deeply necessary for me… and also incredibly hard.

See, for the first six months of my separation and divorce, I did everything except face the pain. I moved into my best friends’ upstairs. I started a new job and carried constant anxiety about living on one income. And I made plans every single night. “Yes” to this. “Yes” to that. Anything to stay busy. Anything to avoid being alone.

Then I moved into my own house.

Suddenly, I was met with an eerie quiet. A big, empty space filled with boxes and echoes. I’ll be honest: it didn’t feel like ‘home’. Not yet. There were moments I didn’t feel safe. It was one of the first times in my life I had ever lived completely alone. Every sound freaked me out. Leaving the curtains open to the street felt unsettling.

I was alone.

It was then that I realized something important: I wasn’t going to heal just by letting time pass. So, I stopped running. I sat with myself – in the quiet – and I listened.

It wasn’t pretty at first.

My heart was deeply hurt and afraid. My mind distrusted everything. And my spirit was exhausted.

They all spoke to me – loudly. Clamoring for attention. And I had to learn how to stay still. How to soften my body. To loosen the tightness in my muscles. To unclench my jaw. To simply sit and listen without trying to fix or escape what I was feeling.

When you find yourself alone for the first time in years – or even decades – you have to relearn how to be comfortable in your own company. For many people, this is one of the hardest parts of life after a breakup. But with patience and intention, it is possible. And when it happens, self-love begins to follow.

I learned how to meditate. I learned how to ask my heart, body, and mind what they needed from me. I learned how to journal with purpose. And slowly – very slowly – I learned what it felt like to be safe.

For truly the first time in my life.

Part of that safety came from transforming a house into a home. I chose to make that space as cozy, beautiful, and peaceful as possible. A true sanctuary. The darkness softened. The quiet became comforting. And what once felt empty began to feel safe.

So, if you find yourself after a divorce or breakup asking, “what now”? Lean into the quiet. Practice stillness. Listen.

You deserve healing. You deserve rest. And you don’t have to do it alone – I am here to support you.