Slow Season

Ease into winter...slowly

Hello Wintry Mixers! 

Welcome to our new subscribers - I’m thrilled you’re here. Winter mindset season is in full swing: if you’re curious what I’ve been up to since our last newsletter, here’s an interview I did about the Polar Night in Tromsø for NPR’s Morning Edition. And Katie Camero at Buzzfeed news wrote an excellent article about wintertime mindset, how some thrive during this time of year, and “cozy gal winter.” 

I’ve also loved hearing about how you embraced the end of Daylight Saving Time - from candles and more candles, to twilight after-work walks, to writing notes to friends while listening to Enya (the coziest) - I hope setting your expectations and finding the opportunities in the time change made the last two weeks more enjoyable. 

Personally, I’ve been reveling in writing at night surrounded by the soft glow of a pink salt lamp and the twisty candle I light to reward myself for working. My current workspace is an attic bedroom on the top floor of a very old Dutch house in our sublet in Amsterdam, and it’s especially romantic when it rains. 

I’ve also been feeling tired. Very, very tired. More tired than perhaps feels warranted by my self-imposed work schedule and lack of kids, but I’m trying not to judge myself. Tis the season. And so I’m thinking of all of the things getting ready to hibernate right now, when the nights are getting longer but it’s only November, a month I have mentally bookmarked as “still fall.” Not just bears, but also frogs and toads and newts, hedgehogs, and bats. Some hibernate as we think of it - burrowing away and sleeping off summer and fall’s bounty for months at a time. But others enter “torpor,” an energy-saving state of deep sleep. Their bodies slow down: their internal temperature drops, their metabolisms decelerate. Some bats and hummingbirds may enter torpor for just a few hours on very cold days, whereas raccoons will enter torpor for days at a time, only awakening when the temperature creeps up enough to make venturing out in search of food worthwhile. Since 2013, NASA has been investigating the possibility of putting humans in torpor for 3-6 months to lower the cost of human missions to Mars, although my research on this topic suggests little recent progress.

Until human torpor comes around, we can’t really hibernate our way through winter. But winter still invites us to do as the plants and animals do at this time of year: turn inward, rest more, and slow down.

In service of that, your second challenge is an entryway into more rest, into winter stillness. For the next two weeks, your challenge is to find intentional slowness. By practicing slowing down - a little or a lot - we can strengthen our muscles of leaning into winter as a welcome respite, a time for pursuing peace, for cultivating contentment. 

Finding Slowness

Step 1: Pick an activity that you’ll do several times over the next two weeks - ideally something you do about once a day. Think: drinking your coffee, walking your dog, dinner time, kids’ bath time, or showering. 

Step 2: For the next two weeks, do that activity with intentional slowness. If this is a busy time for you, pick something short - like your getting-ready-for-bed routine or your morning coffee, and try extending it by just 5 minutes each time. If you’ve already started slowing down for the season, try something more substantial: let your after-work walk or dinner take twice as long as usual. 

Step 3: Use the extra slowness to bring a little more intention and a little more space to these activities. Let yourself fully take in the feeling of an unrushed (or at least less rushed) pace - whether it’s five minutes or an hour. 

Note that “slower” doesn’t necessarily mean interruption-free, peaceful, or perfect. But building in time and space for things to be slower can help the interruptions feel less frustrating, can counteract the feeling of rushing from thing to thing in a frenzy. Every once in a while, something really remarkable happens: taking more time gives us more time, and we can see when and where our hurrying is manufactured, counterproductive. We see that by taking an extra few minutes in the shower, or with our workout, gives us a sense of expanded time, and we can see where else slowness is possible. We can start seeing how it feels to change with the seasons, to move gently into rhythm with winter. 

Don’t forget: I want to hear what you do and how it goes. What are you focusing on slowing down, and how did it feel? I’m all ears. You can share your experience here, or email me directly at kari@karileibowitz.com 

Notes from the slush pile:

Speaking of hibernating: if you want to go all-in on winter hibernation this year, here’s a case for doing so. 

Is this a cooking newsletter? Decidedly not. But it’s Thanksgiving week in the U.S., and there’s one thing I feel very strongly about: Following Samin Nosrat’s advice to add acid to the Thanksgiving table. An absolute game-changer.

Are you a hot water bottle person? I never have been, but I used one this week and it was delightful - like carrying around a warm little pet that doesn’t wriggle or nip your fingers. 10/10, would recommend.

You can also buy a tiny sweater for your hot water bottle which I think is extremely cute.