Wintering as Mothers: A Mindful Pause in the Heart of Exhaustion
In between the depths and quiet folds of winter, there lies a kind of tiredness that takes us to our edges. It settles itself amongst our bones and drapes itself over our shoulders. And for mothers it often comes unspoken.
We are the steady rhythm beneath the household. The warm embrace that catches the tears, the spilled cups, the late-night cries, the endless laundry, the forgotten snacks, the soothing whispers in the dark. We are the breath that holds everyone else’s together.
And yet, so much of what we carry goes unseen.
Motherhood in winter can feel like a long exhale you never quite finish. The days shorter, the light fading faster, the energy within dimmed by the constancy of caregiving. The world outside quiets down, but inside our homes and our bodies, the work continues.
We hold so much. And we hold it all.
But even in this depth of weariness, there is something sacred. There is something holy in the way we keep showing up, day after day, with love tucked behind our eyes and softness in our tired hands.
This is not about doing more. It never was.
This is about offering ourselves the same compassion we offer our children. It is about choosing presence over perfection. And allowing ourselves to be human—exhausted, tender, wildly resilient humans who are still learning how to mother ourselves, too.
A Gentle Return to Self: Winter Mindfulness Practices in the Heart of Exhaustion
Here are five grounding practices designed not to fix or add to your to-do list, but to support your breath, your heart, your being.
Let them meet you in your mess, your beauty, your sacred work:
1. The Gentle Exhale Ritual
For the moments when your body feels like it’s holding everything too tightly.
Sit softly with a hand on your beloved heart and the other on your belly.
Inhale slowly: “I am here.”
Exhale gently: “I can soften.”
Repeat 5–10 times, allowing yourself to let go without needing to fix anything. We are not sitting here to change or to resist, but to soften. Soften to it all.
2. Candlelight Presence
When the shadowy darkness creeps in earlier, use the subtly of flame to ground.
Light a candle and sit nearby. Let your eyes rest on the glow.
Whisper softly: “In this light I am grounded.”
Let the stillness of that moment remind you of your inner warmth.
3. Warm Cup Meditation
Because sometimes a delicious warm drink deserves a whole ritual itself.
Wrap your tender hands around your tea or coffee. Feel the warmth between your palms. How that warmth lovingly spreads between your fingers and up your arms.
Sip slowly, without rush.
Whisper to yourself: “I take this moment to pause. To breathe in and out in presence.”
Take a deep breath in and a surrendering sigh out. Tuning into your senses and embracing the warmth from the inside out.
4. The Nighttime Nest
A gentle unwinding for the end of a long, layered day.
I invite you to lie down, wrapping yourself amongst the warmth of your snuggly blankets.
Scan your body from toes to head, gently naming gratitude:
“Thank you, feet, for carrying me today.”
Allow sleep to embrace you as you meet your body with love.
5. Natures Grounding: A Still Witnessing
Let the grounding wintery depths of Mother Nature mirror the stillness you crave.
Plant yourself outside or stand at a window. Watch the trees, the clouds, the breeze.
Take a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Whispering softly: “I give myself permission to find stillness.”
Let that be enough.
These practices are not about finding more time.
They are about remembering that you matter too in the moments you already have.
Because the work you do—the unseen, uncelebrated, relentless, heart-led work of mothering—is some of the most sacred work there is.
You are the landing.
You are the warmth.
You are the soft exhale in your child’s chest when they feel safe.
You are the tether that holds generations together.
This winter, may you be reminded that while you hold everyone else, it’s okay to let yourself be held too.
With all my heart,
Ashleigh xo