November 8, 2023

I don’t have much in common with Katherine May, the author of Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times. She is much younger than I am and has a young son. She lives in the UK. She was diagnosed with Aspergers as an adult. But I identify with much of what she writes in this book.

The title alone spoke to me, for the idea of “wintering” totally seduces me. I am a winter person.

I bought and read this book when it was first published in 2020, but recently I felt tugged to re-read it. Actually, re-reading favorite books right now interests me more than reading books new to me, but that will be the topic of another post. Stay tuned.

Yes, she writes about the season of winter. The structure of the book follows the movement of the season beginning with September’s coming of winter to the almost spring of March.

For example she writes, “Winter opens up time,” and then shares her reading habit during the winter months.

In the high summer, we want to be outside and active; in winter, we are called inside, and here we attend to all the detritus of the summer months, when we are too busy to take the necessary care. Winter is when I reorganize my bookshelves and read all the books I acquired in the previous year and failed to actually read. It is also the time when I reread beloved novels, for the pleasure of reacquainting myself with old friends. In summer, I want big splashy ideas and trashy page-turners, devoured while lounging in a garden chair or perching on one of the breakwaters on the beach. In winter I want concepts to chew over in a pool of lamplight–slow, spiritual reading, a reinforcement of the soul. Winter is a time for libraries, the muffled quiet of book stacks and the scent of old pages and dust. In winter, I can spend hours in silent pursuit of a half-understood concept or a detail of history. There is nowhere else to be, after all.

p. 210

Excuse me while I take a time-out to rearrange my bookshelves.

I’m back.

“Wintering also refers to the emotions of being in a winter season of our lives. May writes, “Everybody winters at one time or another; some winter over and over again.” (p. 10) and “We may never choose to winter, but we can choose how.” (p. 13) She adds that some winters are big and some small.

This passage seems especially fitting when I think about the winter stage of my life, these elder years:

…you’ll find wisdom in your winter, and once it’s over, it’s your responsibility to pass it on. And, in return, it’s our responsibility to listen to those who have wintered before us. It’s an exchange of gifts in which nobody loses out. …Watching winter and really listening to its messages, we learn that effect is often disproportionate to cause; that tiny mistakes can lead to huge disasters; that life is often bloody unfair, but it carries on happening with or without our consent. We learn to look more kindly on other people’s crises, because they are so often portents of our own future.

pp. 122-123

I enjoyed the sections about wolves, wild swimming, saunas, the Sami people and reindeer, Santa Lucia, and the winter solstice. Winter is a rich season, indeed.

May is also author of Enchantment, Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age (2023) and The Electricity of Every Living Thing: A Woman’s Walk in the Wild to Find Her Way Home (2018). Her podcast is How We Live Now and her newsletter is The Clearing. https://katherinemay.substack.com

An Invitation

How do you respond to the concept of “wintering”? I would love to know.