Afraid to Slow Down? Anxiety and the Fear of “Wintering”
I was inspired to write a blog about how we underestimate the power of “wintering” and how we may feel stuck in a cycle of anxiety not allowing us to slow down when our minds and bodies are telling us to.
We often think of anxiety as the problem.
The racing thoughts.
The constant planning.
The feeling that something bad is just around the corner.
But for many people, anxiety isn’t just a symptom — it’s a way of coping. Even a way of surviving.
And sometimes, it’s a way of avoiding what author Katherine May calls a period of wintering in her book called “Wintering”.
What Is “Wintering”?
It means that life has seasons and our winters and summers are the normal ebb and flow of life. But we’re taught to value productivity and measure our happiness through our achievements.
But “wintering” shows us that sometimes life contracts. Energy drops. And that isn’t wrong — it’s part of being human.
This might be triggered by:
Loss or grief
Illness or burnout
A relationship ending
A major life transition
Or simply emotional overwhelm that can no longer be pushed aside
Wintering is a deeper, quieter time when your usual energy, resilience, or sense of direction seem to slow down.
Like winter in nature, it’s a period of reduced activity, withdrawal, and conservation. And although it can feel bleak or unusual, it is also a time of hidden psychological and emotional processing.
The problem? Most of us have never been taught how to be in our winter. We live in a relentless non-stop society that the concept of reducing activity and slowing down seems alien.
When a slowdown is forced, many people don’t move into rest — they move into anxiety and feeling guilty.
Instead of leaning into sadness, they start overthinking.
Instead of grieving, they start planning.
Instead of admitting “I can’t cope like I used to,” they push harder and worry more.
Anxiety can create a powerful illusion of control:
“If I think about every detail enough, I’ll be prepared.”
“If I stay alert, nothing will catch me off guard.”
“If I keep going, I won’t fall apart.”
In this way, anxiety keeps us mentally busy and emotionally defended. It protects us from the stillness of winter, where more vulnerable feelings — grief, fear, emptiness, disappointment — might rise to the surface.
The Exhausted Body, The Racing Mind
Many people I work with describe a painful split:
“I’m completely exhausted… but my mind won’t switch off. I have tried everything.”
This is often what happens when the body is ready to “winter” — to slow down and recover — but the mind is still stuck in fight mode.
Anxiety keeps the nervous system activated:
scanning for danger
replaying conversations
imagining worst-case scenarios
trying to solve problems that don’t have solutions yet
Underneath this is often a deeper truth: something in life has been too much for too long.
Wintering is the body’s way of saying, “We need to stop.”
Anxiety is the mind’s way of saying, “We can’t afford to stop.”
Here’s the part that can surprise people in therapy: reducing anxiety doesn’t always bring immediate relief.
When the constant mental noise quietens, other feelings take up the space:
Grief that was never fully felt
Loneliness that was masked by busyness
Fear of not being “enough” without constant striving
This is often the doorway into wintering. It can feel unfamiliar and frightening.
Clients sometimes say, “At least when I was anxious, I felt in control.”
But this quieter state is also where deeper healing becomes possible. But it needs time. And then the vulnerability becomes a sense of quiet resolve and stability, a strong sense of self-awareness.
What Wintering Offers That Anxiety Cannot
Anxiety is fuelled by tension and vigilance. It promises safety but often delivers exhaustion.
Wintering, although initially uncomfortable, allows for:
Nervous system settling
Emotional processing
Re-evaluation of priorities and limits
A reshaping of identity after loss or change
It’s not about giving up. It’s about turning inward so that something new can take up the space and eventually emerge.
In therapy, part of the work can be helping people notice when anxiety has become a way of avoiding deeper pain.
This isn’t about taking anxiety away too quickly. It’s about building enough safety that someone can slowly begin to:
Rest without guilt
Feel difficult emotions
Accept that they are in a season of life that requires different expectations
If you’re someone who feels stuck in constant anxiety while also feeling deeply tired, it may be that part of you is longing for a different pace — a gentler, more compassionate way of being with yourself during a hard season.
You don’t have to rush spring. Sometimes, the work is simply learning how to be in your winter.
If you’d like to speak to someone, please get in touch with me or try the below links to find the right therapist for you.
