When Life Feels Like Winter: The Purpose of Pain and Stillness

The Urge to Reframe Everything

We’re often told to find the silver lining in hard times, to make meaning out of suffering, and to put a positive spin on difficult emotions. But what if some seasons of life aren’t meant to be reframed? What if they are simply meant to be felt?

Lately, I’ve been sitting with this discomfort—the heaviness of a hard day, the weight of emotions that don’t have a neat resolution. I find myself looking outside at the bare, frozen landscape in the dead of winter and try to find beauty in it. But then I wonder…does it have to be beautiful to be valid?

Pain Has a Place, Too

It’s popular to reject the idea that pain has purpose, to call it toxic positivity when we try to make suffering meaningful. And I get it—pain isn’t something to be romanticized or dismissed. It’s real, it hurts, and it can feel unbearable.

But maybe there’s a middle ground. Instead of forcing pain into something productive—or rejecting meaning altogether—what if we simply allowed it to exist? What if, over time, meaning reveals itself, rather than being something we have to manufacture?

“But If I don’t Try to Fix It, Won’t I Stay Stuck?”

For high-achievers, anxious perfectionists, and those who have always relied on productivity to create a sense of control, sitting in discomfort can feel counterintuitive. You might be thinking: 

“But if I don’t try to fix things, won’t I just stay stuck?”

“How do I know when I’m processing versus just wallowing?”

“I don’t have time to sit with discomfort—how does this actually help me?”

These are valid concerns, and they come from a part of you that believes moving forward means constant action. But what if true forward movement sometimes requires stillness?

Winter as a Season of Preparation

Nature doesn’t rush through winter to get to spring. The trees don’t apologize for shedding their leaves, and the frozen ground doesn’t force itself to thaw before it’s time. This season of stillness serves a purpose—it prepares for what’s to come. It strengthens the root system and builds a tolerance for the next harsh winter.

This stillness is where emotional resilience is built. When we stop avoiding our emotions and start listening to them, we create a deeper sense of security within ourselves. We learn that we can survive discomfort, that we don’t have to force every feeling into something more acceptable. 

So what if, instead of forcing ourselves to “get over it” or make it pretty, we allowed ourselves to be in it? What if we embraced the stillness, the slowing down, the planning, and the quiet strengthening that happens beneath the surface?

A Self-Compassionate Approach to Hard Seasons

If this kind of stillness feels hard for you, here are some ways to explore it with curiosity rather than resistance: 

• Journaling Prompt: Instead of asking, “How can I fix this?” try asking, “What is this season teaching me?”

• Therapeutic Exercise: Take five minutes to sit with an uncomfortable emotion instead of distracting yourself. What does it feel like in your body? What happens when you don’t try to push it away?

• Self-Compassion Practice: Remind yourself that, just like nature, you don’t have to be productive or polished all the time. You are allowed to just be.

Letting Yourself Be Where You Are

Some seasons are for growth, some are for rest, and some are for simply existing. If you’re in a hard season, you don’t have to force it into something it’s not. You are allowed to grieve, to struggle, to feel lost. And maybe, just maybe, this season is shaping you in ways you won’t understand until much later.

For now, let yourself be where you are. The spring will come when it’s ready.

A Letter to Your Winter

What if you treated this season of your life the way nature treats winter—without rushing it, without demanding it to be something else?

Take a few minutes to write a letter to this season of your life. You don’t have to force positivity or find a silver lining. Just acknowledge where you are.

If you need help getting started, you can try starting with: “Dear Winter (or whatever seasons you feel you’re in), I’ve been feeling…”

Let whatever comes up be enough. No reframing, no fixing—just witnessing. Let your reflections in the letter be a reminder that this season, too, has a place.