The Rhythm of the Winter Season: Creativity Comes in Waves

With the arrival of winter, everything slows down. The light softens, the air becomes crisp, and beneath the surface of daily life, a quiet rhythm begins to emerge. For many health care providers, this is the season when we yearn to slow down. Sessions may take on a softer rhythm, and conversations stretch into quieter spaces. The surface stillness can feel like a lull, yet underneath, much is stirring.

Many understand this concept and see winter as a time of incubation, recognizing that the creative process is not linear. It curls, pauses, retreats, and returns in its own wild timing. By becoming aware of these cycles and living seasonally with them, we can uncover aspects that mirror the therapeutic process itself—transformation and renewal often emerge after periods of stillness.

Winter as a Season of Incubation

In winter, the landscape often appears dormant, like a blank canvas, but it is a time when energy gathers beneath the surface, waiting to be released.  Underneath it all, the energy of winter is that of creation, nature reorganizing, and recalibrating itself. 

In December, therapists often notice a similar phenomenon. Clients arrive tired, unsure where their motivation went, and wondering why they are sleeping more than usual. Many sound defeated. Insight tends to come slowly. This process is a seasonal reorganization. The psyche uses the quiet to rearrange thoughts into words not yet spoken.  When we honor the seasonal pace and stop forcing people to move faster, insight deepens. No matter how much we may want to smell the rose, we can not force a bud to bloom without doing damage—beauty and power exist in watching the stages of a rose blossoming.

Artists Who Create and Artists Who Rest

Some artists thrive in the solitude and quiet of winter, recognizing it as a time of incubation. Others get frustrated at the pace and turn away from creating altogether.  

Clinicians, too, have their own cycle, including outward expression and inward retreat. Therapists benefit from noticing their seasonal needs, which might include a lighter caseload, a reflective walk between sessions, or wordless presence with themselves—these are creative acts of alignment.

Outwardly, a client who seems stalled may be metabolizing something in the slower place and silence. Inwardly, a therapist may feel quieter than usual, integrating rather than detaching. Winter invites us to trust in the process and believe in what remains ‘hidden’.

Tracking Our Own Rhythms

Many therapists, trained to observe their clients' rhythms, struggle to honor their own. Therapists often expect themselves to operate as if they are immune to seasonal tides, showing up with the same attunement and clarity every single day. But inner life refuses to be that scheduled and put-together.

There may be weeks when your thoughts come slowly and others when they flood in like light. Moments when you are fully engaged, and others when you sense yourself drawing inward or shutting down. These shifts are biological wisdom. Remember that expansion and contraction are both sacred. When overwhelmed, everyone needs time to tend to their inner world.  Creativity, insight, and even empathy may at times need incubation before they reemerge.

Reframing Therapeutic Work During the Holidays

Recognizing that clinical care and creativity are cyclical rather than constant can help clinicians develop patience. Slowing the pace becomes a form of care. Spaciousness allows the nervous system to integrate complex feelings. A slower, quieter pace is respectful.  What looks like withdrawal may be the psyche’s way of creating more depth and room for expansion, inviting metaphor, memory, and imagination. 

Honoring the Season

Therapists rely on trust, timing, and rhythm. Artists know that fallow seasons are part of a natural cycle, including the creative rhythm. Clinicians can learn from nature's wisdom. 

We can learn to be patient and trust that when the timing is right, what is covered will be revealed. The psyche, like the earth, knows how to prepare itself for renewal. 

This season, appreciate the blank canvas winter offers. Avoid rushing the thaw. Let this be a season of trust and notice what becomes through in stillness. Healing speeds up when we allow ourselves to rest. Hold on and trust that what is unfolding beneath the surface will emerge when the conditions are right.

by Dr. Amy Vail and Alli Fischenich