Wintering

Wintering by Katherine May is a quiet, expansive meditation on the seasons of human life that arrive without invitation. Rather than treating hardship as a flaw to be corrected or a detour to be escaped, May reframes difficult periods as a distinct phase of living—one that demands its own rhythms, values, and forms of care. The book unfolds as both memoir and cultural inquiry, blending personal experience, nature writing, psychology, folklore, and history to argue that withdrawal, rest, and slowness are not signs of weakness but requirements for survival and renewal.

At its core, Wintering explores what happens when life freezes—when momentum collapses, identities fracture, and the familiar rules for progress no longer apply. These moments might come through illness, grief, burnout, failure, or profound change. May calls these periods “winters,” not to dramatize suffering, but to normalize it. Winter, in her framing, is not a mistake in the system. It is the system.

The book resists tidy solutions. It does not promise that hardship can be optimized or transformed into productivity. Instead, it offers permission: permission to stop pushing, to retreat, to tend quietly to what is essential, and to trust that growth sometimes happens underground, out of sight.

Winter as a Human Condition, Not a Personal Failure

May begins by dismantling the modern assumption that life should move in a constant upward trajectory. Contemporary culture prizes speed, visibility, and perpetual improvement. Against this backdrop, periods of stagnation or retreat are often interpreted as moral failings—evidence that someone has not tried hard enough or remained positive enough.

Wintering challenges this worldview by insisting that downturns are not anomalies. They are as intrinsic to human existence as flourishing. Just as trees shed leaves and animals conserve energy, people too require periods of contraction. Ignoring this reality does not eliminate winter; it only makes it more painful.

May describes wintering as a state of being cut off—emotionally, socially, or professionally. During these times, people may feel exiled from the lives they once recognized. Familiar identities no longer fit, and future plans lose clarity. Importantly, wintering is rarely chosen. It arrives through circumstance, often when resilience is already depleted.

By naming these experiences as seasonal rather than pathological, May reframes suffering as something that happens to us rather than something that is wrong with us. This shift alone becomes a form of relief. When hardship is understood as cyclical, it no longer demands immediate resolution. It asks instead for endurance, care, and time.

The Illusion of Endless Summer

Throughout the book, May critiques the cultural obsession with “summer”—a metaphor for productivity, sociability, and visible success. Modern life, she suggests, is structured as if winter should never come. Workplaces expect uninterrupted performance. Social media rewards constant engagement. Wellness culture often frames rest as something that must be earned.

This relentless expectation creates profound harm. When winter inevitably arrives, people are unprepared. They lack both language and rituals for slowness. Instead of adapting, they attempt to force themselves through with the same intensity that once sustained them, only to find that effort ...