Melbourne is deep into winter.
The mornings arrive a little later. The cold lingers a little longer. Some days, getting out of bed feels unexpectedly difficult.
It can feel as though something has changed.
Perhaps it has.
A Season of Closing and Storing
In the Donguibogam, winter is described as a season of "closing and storing" (閉藏).
It is the time of year when rivers freeze, the earth grows still, and warmth settles deep beneath the surface. The world isn't trying to bloom. It's holding onto what it already has.
People, it says, aren't so different.
There is a passage that encourages us to sleep earlier, wake a little later, and wait for the sun before beginning the day.
It also speaks of keeping our intentions quietly in our hearts. Not spending every part of ourselves. Not pushing so hard that our warmth escapes us.
It feels less like a rule.
More like an understanding of what winter asks from us.
Listening to Winter
It's interesting that modern sleep research notices something similar.
Studies have found that during winter, we tend to spend longer in deep sleep and REM sleep than we do in the warmer months. The parts of sleep that help restore the body and gently organise the mind seem to ask for a little more time.
Maybe that's why the alarm feels heavier some mornings.
Maybe that's why you've been reaching for ten more minutes under the blanket, even when you've already slept longer than usual.
It's easy to think something is wrong.
But perhaps your body is simply noticing the season before your mind does.
The Kind of Morning Winter Invites
The Donguibogam reminds us to begin with the sun.
Today we know that morning light plays a quiet role in helping our sleep find its rhythm later that night.
But you don't need to think about hormones while you're standing outside. You simply notice the brightness, even on a cloudy morning.
The cold air against your face.
The sound of your footsteps as you walk to the café, the station, or around the block before the day begins.
These moments can feel too ordinary to matter.
Yet they often become part of the quiet rhythm our bodies remember.
Letting the Day Come to an End
Evenings ask for something different.
The house grows quieter.
The lights become softer.
You tell yourself you'll check your phone for just a minute before sleeping. Somehow, that minute becomes much longer, and the room no longer feels like night.
Winter seems to prefer another pace.
Darkness arrives early and doesn't rush to leave.
There is something comforting about allowing the day to finish with it.
Not every evening needs one more task.
Sometimes it is enough to turn off the light, pull the blanket a little closer, and let the quiet settle around you.
Moving with the Season
Winter has never been a season of pushing forward.
Just as roots beneath frozen ground quietly gather what they need before spring arrives, perhaps we don't have to keep reaching outward all the time either.
Some seasons are for growing.
Others are simply for keeping warm.
On nights when the wind brushes softly against the window, and the house has finally fallen quiet, it can feel as though winter is gently reminding us that rest has always been part of the season.