There comes a time each year when everything in nature begins to pull inward.
The leaves fall. The air sharpens. The days shorten until they feel like a long inhale.
Nothing is rushing anymore.
Nothing is trying to bloom out of season.
Winter teaches a truth we tend to forget:
there is a sacred rhythm to being human, and you are allowed to retreat.
Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that slowing down means we’re falling behind.
That if we don’t stay constantly productive, constantly available, constantly “on,”
we are somehow less worthy.
But nature disagrees.
Winter is the season of returning to yourself—
the gentle, necessary act of gathering your energy back from the world
the way a crow gathers scraps of light, shiny fragments of self,
carrying them home to the quiet safety of its hidden nest.
This is the time to notice what parts of you are tired.
What parts are overstretched.
What parts have been performing for too long.
What parts need warmth, not pressure.
And in the dimness, there is a flame.
Not a roaring bonfire—just a small, steady ember.
The kind that doesn’t demand attention,
but offers comfort simply by existing.
This ember is your inner life: your intuition, your rest, your truth.
It glows brighter when you step back from the noise.
It steadies when you stop trying to prove yourself.
Returning to yourself isn’t dramatic.
It’s subtle.
It’s sitting in silence long enough to hear what your body has been trying to say.
It’s choosing presence over performance.
It’s letting the world move at its frantic pace while you move at your own.
This season is an invitation:
Slow down.
Reclaim your energy.
Come home to yourself without apology.
The crow knows when to fly and when to nest.
The flame knows when to burn bright and when to simply glow.
And so do you.
Crow and Flame 