THE GIFTS OF WINTER
Dr Stephanie Fitzgerald is a chartered clinical psychologist, neuropsychologist, and Associate Fellow of the British Psychological Society. She is also a keynote speaker and the author of four previous books, including Reworked: Putting health and happiness at the centre of your career , and workbooks on anxiety and OCD.
She has worked in mental health for two decades, including ten years for the NHS, before moving to private practice to coach individuals who feel burned out, overwhelmed, stressed and anxious. She also provides professional wellbeing support to companies across varying industries, including rail, aerospace, civil engineering and Premier League football.
THE GIFTS OF WINTER
How to uncover seasonal joy, health and happiness
DR STEPHANIE FITZGERALD
PENGUIN MICHAEL JOSEPH
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First published 2025
Copyright © Dr Stephanie Fitzgerald, 2025 Internal illustrations copyright © Ryn Frank, 2025
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For my beautiful sister Laura, to help you embrace winter’s hug x
Introduction
There are gifts in winter. Threads of magic woven through the fabric of the season. They lie in the whispered words of nature, inviting us to settle into the hush. Winter is a time of recovery and preparation, offering us the chance for cosy contentedness and so much more. There is a sparkle of wonder, a peppiness and a vitality that has the power to restore and revive us.
Although winter arrives much more quietly than other seasons, slipping in under the darkest shadows of autumn, it brings with it unexpected lightness and vibrancy. Its charms may appear hidden in the depths of the cold and the dark but, just beneath the surface, there lies beauty, joy and contentment, waiting to be found.
There is much to cherish in winter, but it’s easy to lose sight of this. With the everyday rush of life and global events leaving us tired and diminished, winter can feel like one extra challenge we could do without. The story we are told is wholly negative. We are sold a season of nothingness. A fallow and barren period. The rhetoric from every angle is how awful and miserable it is, something to be endured. No wonder we try to shut winter out, drawing the curtains against the darkness. If we go into any situation thinking, ‘I can’t stand this, I want it to be over,’
then our experiences will almost certainly align with that way of thinking. We cannot experience the delight and awe of winter if we keep our heads down, avoiding and wishing it away.
It may seem surprising that I now love winter. Whilst I was always upbeat about the season throughout my childhood and early twenties, after suffering several years of crippling seasonal affective disorder (SAD ), together with some challenging personal events which occurred at this time of year, I was left feeling despondent and overwhelmed. My dread of winter cloaked me in heavy negativity, not just throughout winter itself but also pre- emptively, starting with the very thought of the season approaching.
Back then, I did everything I could to ignore and reject winter, overcommitting at work and cramming my schedule so full that I’d barely have time to breathe, let alone acknowledge the season around me. I was exhausted but hoped that I could distract myself away from winter. I kept my head down and waited for it to be over but, even from the depths of my dislike, I knew there was a better way. I’ve been a psychologist for over two decades, specializing in neuropsychology for nearly 15 years.
I’m fascinated by how our brains interact with our surroundings. In recent years, I have watched our attitudes towards winter become more and more negatively skewed and knew it wasn’t working for us. The way I myself approached winter every year not only bruised my heart but was actively going against my professional knowledge, and it wasn’t serving me well. I felt in my gut that winter had more to offer me and that, somehow, its gifts
had become buried under my own experiences and challenges. I realized that it wasn’t winter itself that I hated and wanted to avoid, but how I felt in winter. It wasn’t winter; it was me. I knew from my clinical practice that I wasn’t alone.
I needed to do something about it. I needed solutions. I wanted the understanding, the tools and the capability to better manage my mental and physical health during a season when the odds felt fully stacked against me. And I didn’t want to fake it. As Welsh author Horatio Clare writes in his book The Light in the Dark : ‘It does not do to romanticize drizzle, rain on motorways, months of strip lighting, office windows black at four o’clock and concrete skies.’1 I knew I couldn’t simply will myself to start liking winter again, and as an evidence-based practitioner, I wanted more. I began an exploration, seeking the science and practical advice I needed in order to do winter better.
On my voyage of discovery, I developed so much more than a survival guide; I fell deeply in love with winter. I discovered a magic that I never knew existed. Once I started seeking the beauty of the season, I couldn’t escape it. Every day, I found something new, and these experiences embedded themselves as pockets of joy in my heart.
Winter is a captivating and truly gorgeous season, but too often we refuse to engage with it. We block it out. Winter offers us a restorative period of rest and reflection, an antidote to the chaos of the year, but we rush past with our summer energy and unchanging routines. By ignoring the spectacular beauty of winter, we miss out on an opportunity that no other season presents.
That’s why I wrote this book. I want to encourage everyone not to romanticize winter, but to truly lean into winter’s embrace. Winter hasn’t abandoned us, and we shouldn’t abandon winter. Consider this book your treasure map, revealing where the hidden gems of winter are and what you can do to find them. It normalizes why and when the season is tough and shares practical tips for overcoming the challenges. You will no longer be gritting your teeth to get through it. Instead, you will be held through winter, by winter. You’ll feel support, solace and succour.
This book will guide you through the challenges and what we can do to overcome them but also introduce you to the magic we so often overlook. With easy-to-implement tips alongside regular points of reflection throughout, you will begin to break down the blockers that stop you from engaging with the season and learn how your body and brain can thrive at this time of year. You will uncover and engage with the warmth, joy, health and happiness woven into winter.
We all experience the challenges of home, health, work and family that tumble around in the kaleidoscope of life throughout the year. But one thing we needn’t do is battle winter. Since discovering another way to approach the season, I have felt happiness and contentment. My soul has been settled. I’ve experienced joy, encouragement, playful energy and a full heart, all of which are gifts from winter. Now I want you to experience them too.
Chapter 1: Making space for winter
Do you make space for winter? Take a moment to consider. Do you put time and energy into making seasonal adjustments? What changes in your world in winter? If your answer is ‘nothing’, then you are not alone. Many of us head into the season without giving it any thought, only paying attention when we realize that we are finding it hard. There is no doubt that winter itself can pose some challenges, but it is not fully responsible for the obstacles we face. These are not the direct result of winter but rather challenges that we create ourselves. One such challenge is our absolute refusal to make adjustments. There is a direct link between how much space we create for winter and how comfortable we will find the season. I see time and again that we refuse to make a single adaptation to the season, continuing with the same activities, pace and diet of summer, and then we state that winter is hard. Yet winter doesn’t have to make life hard. Quite the opposite. Winter is full of invitations. Stop. Rest. Put down your tools.
Look, I’ll turn down the lights for you. How do we respond? By flicking on the electric lights. Winter gently encourages us to prioritize ourselves: Why don’t you have some sensory rest so you feel refreshed and restored? What do we do? We swipe our way through the lives of thousands of strangers online, absorbing views, information and opinions far faster than we can ever hope to process. We drown in a sea of stimulation in a moment where winter invites us to sit quietly and savour the hush. Winter cools the air around us, encouraging us to go to bed, to snuggle, to tell stories and to connect. We, in turn, crank up the heating and sit far apart on the sofa, scrolling small screens in front of big screens. Our modern world shouts loudly and brashly over the softly spoken words of winter, which, if we listen, invite us to sit and be, together. The truth is that we make our own lives harder and then blame our challenges on winter.
We are no longer aligned with when nature’s heartbeat quickens and slows. There is a natural ebb and flow to the year’s energy, but we choose to ignore it. Instead, we try to maintain a steady pace throughout the year and then wonder why we are so exhausted at the end of it. We make zero adjustments, then blame winter for our depleted energy.
It’s 5.45am on a mid- January morning and I am scraping ice off my car windscreen in the dark. I am heading to the gym, which is only down the road and opens at 6am. Why am I shivering in an inadequate hoodie at this ridiculous hour, trying to clear my car and getting ready to drive? Because that’s what I do. That’s my routine. Or rather, that was my routine. All through the summer, I (almost) enjoyed getting up
at 5.30am, having a quick cup of tea and hopping in the car at 5.55am, ready to swipe my membership card and be in position to kickstart both my workout and my day by 6.01am.
So, what’s wrong with this picture? Well, I’m not hopping in my car at 5.55am. I am instead having to allow an additional 10 minutes or so to clear the car windscreen, leaving the engine running and praying that my neighbours don’t hate me too much for it (spoiler alert: they do). I’m not enjoying a cup of tea before I head out; I’m making it in a to-go cup to have en route and I feel weird taking a sip of tea instead of the more conventional glug of water on the treadmill. What’s wrong with this picture is that I haven’t made any space for winter.
All through summer, I loved the sense of achievement that came from knowing I was ahead of the crowd by getting my workout done. I felt a sense of smugness in the near-empty gym and felt more dedicated than those who chose to stay in bed. But that smugness fades now as I realize I’m literally running on empty. I don’t have any energy, but I am feeling extra pressure to make my workout worthwhile, as it took so much more effort to get here. I think about my friends who turned off their early alarms and committed to more sleep and can’t help but question if I really am living the healthier lifestyle after all. I am not alone. Very few of us change our lifestyles with the seasons because, thanks to modern living, we don’t have to. Everything from electricity to international shipping means our patterns, routines, rhythms and diet are no longer dictated by daylight hours or temperature. We can ignore the seasons as we
push on through with our own routines and plans, but nature, as always, is more powerful than us. Its impact is felt whether we choose to pay attention to it or not.
You may well say to me, ‘It’s not my fault, my life doesn’t allow for adjustments or changes.’ But that’s not winter’s fault either. We cannot blame winter for not matching our summerenergy lifestyle. We create disappointment in one season when we carry over the expectations of another. It is as though we wish for the sun but grumble when presented with the moon. Both are magical, mystical, full of promise and purpose, but we are guaranteed to miss the beauty and healing strength of the moon if we spend the entire time looking around it for the sun. Before we can experience a better winter, we have to acknowledge the part we play in making winter difficult. Yes, winter poses some challenges, but so does every season. Even summer, which 42% of us cite as our favourite season,1 requires us to overlook the hay fever, the sweaty discomfort at night, and the moments of relentless heat keeping us in what Jane Austen described as ‘a continual state of inelegance’.2
We don’t gain anything from trying to squeeze winter out of our year and pretend it’s not happening. We don’t need to learn how to ‘survive’ winter because, in fact, winter comes laden with gifts. If we listen, winter might say to us, Look, I know this can be tough. I’m going to bring a little more light every day. I’m going to bring peace, gentleness, a sense of calm and clarity. I am going to offer you a chance to slow down, and I will hold you tightly and safely until you are ready to greet the world again.
Winter offers us everything we need; we just have to budge up and make space for it. We cannot find the good in winter without truly engaging with it. The rewards we get will rejuvenate us for the rest of the year and the higher-energy seasons ahead. Making space for winter means making small adjustments to welcome the season and the energetic shift that it brings. It is minimal effort for maximum reward. It is so worth investing this time to overcome the challenges and gain the benefits from the most restorative season of the year.
The never-ending winter
When it comes to challenges, one element of winter definitely occupies more than its fair share of the season. Whether you celebrate it or not, it is the reason why winter can feel never-ending and explains why so often we are ready for winter to be over before it has even really begun. That element is, of course, Christmas. In the UK , Christmas begins to creep onto our shelves and into our consciousness from September onwards. September. As in summer-has-just-left-the-building September. We are being sold Christmas before autumn has barely made an appearance, let alone winter. We are forced to think about Christmas a good four months ahead of the event itself. None of this early hard sell is designed to help us. We may be sold ideas of planning ahead and spreading the cost, but as many an outraged headline has pointed out, much Christmas food is sold with a use-by date that pre-dates the big day itself.
Early Christmas stock is not brought into stores for our benefit. Magazines that want to publish a ‘best Christmas display’ or ‘where to buy the best mince pie’ feature are working to submit their December issue for publication in October. This means the shops need to be prepared, Christmas goodies must be displayed, lights must be switched on, etc. in plenty of time for journalists to examine it all. Then articles are written and opinions are shared, which will influence what we do, or don’t, buy to celebrate Christmas.
And so it begins. In September. We browse beneath twinkling fairy lights. We shop to Christmas number one hits, pushing our trolleys around humming, ‘Simply . . . having . . . a wonderful Christmas time,’ and who hasn’t given it their all along with Mariah when she first plays through our car stereos? We play the game, we join in, we’re involved . . . and then we’re fed up. No wonder! What other event in the year has a fourmonth build-up? When else would we ask people to maintain a level of enthusiasm and excitement for so long, other than perhaps a wedding? (Even then, at some point, the happy couple have likely exchanged a glance over table plans that translates to ‘we should have eloped’.)
With such a long build-up to Christmas, many people are completely fed up with ‘winter’ before it has technically begun. By Boxing Day, we’ve had enough and are ready for spring, even though winter has barely been with us for 72 hours. Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas or you celebrate another religious or secular event around this time, unless you stay at home
from September to December, you cannot avoid the chaos. We are inundated with Christmas commercialism, and it leaves us physically, mentally and financially exhausted.
Later on, we’ll explore how to have a better Christmas/ holiday season, so I won’t dwell on this too much here other than to say that if Christmas really dominates and drains your winter of joy and energy, or if it leaves you feeling emotionally depleted, then fear not. Winter also offers a wonderful antidote to all the Christmas noise and chaos that we face, with nearly three months of potential restoration and re-energizing to take advantage of. If we want to experience the season differently, then we need to break away from the commercial calendar and reframe our year. There is a different way to approach winter, a way that could make us much happier. Only it might not be what you think.
Rewriting your year
There are many ways to define a season. Astronomical seasons refer to the position of the earth’s orbit in relation to the sun.3 It is the astronomical seasons that are responsible for the spring equinox when the clocks go forward and the autumn equinox when the clocks go back (my personal favourite: hello, extra hour in bed!). This definition of the seasons sees winter start around 20 December and spring start around 20 March. Then we have the meteorological seasons, which consist of splitting the seasons into four three-month periods, coinciding
with our Gregorian calendar. This sees the seasons divided into winter as December/January/February, spring as March/April/ May, summer as June/July/August and autumn as September/ October/November.
So far, so inconsistent. One definition has winter starting at the beginning of December; the other has winter starting three weeks later. Then the workplace can complicate matters further by dividing our year into quarters, with ‘Q1’ starting in January. This corporate calendar adds a layer of complexity and a further blocker to us tuning into the seasons around us. We set ourselves up to begin afresh in Q1, to push projects with renewed energy and vigour and to start new initiatives just as we enter into the restorative slow-down phase of nature.
This is why, in a sentence I never thought I would utter, I believe the tax year could make us happier. Let me explain.
The UK tax year sees the start of the year begin from 1 April. We’re in good company, with Japan, Canada, Hong Kong, Singapore and South Africa all running their fiscal years from 1 April to 31 March.4 I am suggesting that we do the same: not just with our finances but with our personal approach to the year. The calendar year and the traditions we follow don’t allow us to celebrate winter. Instead, we give it a week to ten days maximum, and then we want rid of it. Could we let ourselves embrace winter if we rewrote the layout of our year?
Imagine seeing April as the start of the new year, where you initiate goals and plans using the energy of the awakening spring. All the build-up, expectation and hope you pour into
a new year would have an extra three months from January to March to burgeon. Wouldn’t that feel less exhausting? Wouldn’t that allow you to plan, restore, accommodate and settle into winter more in the meantime? The thing is, we can . It’s as simple as rewriting our year. The reason the way we currently do things feels wrong is because we are fighting against nature. Timing our new year goals with the beginning of spring would tune us into the rhythm of the seasons, making an enormous difference to us, our energy and the rest of the year. It’s a simple change, but it’s powerful.
Activity: Rewrite your year
Rewrite your year right now by dividing it into April–June (spring), July–September (summer), October–December (autumn), January–March (winter). Now mark 1 April as New Year’s Day. This shift in mindset allows for a very different winter. You now have January to March to plan, plot and recharge, ready for the year ahead. You can now align your energy with the seasons.
You can embrace the crisp, glittering January mornings, the slow thaw of the garden, the gentle budding of trees and the hailing rain of March, knowing that it is supposed to be that way. Spring would feel so much more authentic if we began it with gentle April showers leading into (hopefully) months of glorious sunshine.
This rewrite of the year better aligns with our energies, our seasons, our weather, our . . . everything. This way, winter becomes a period to look forward to. To enjoy, not endure. We can sink into three extra months of cosy bliss, relieving the pressure to get up and get going until we have gathered the energy and the resources to do so. Doesn’t that sound positive? Doesn’t that sound better? I began to rewrite my calendar a couple of years ago, and now I really look forward to winter. It has become my recharging station of the year, and I feel the earth’s energy shift with me, supporting my year ahead. It’s a glorious approach and really could make you happier, just as it has done for me. Can you make the shift right now to mentally start your new year on 1 April? How does it make you feel knowing that you’ve bought yourself three more months before it’s all systems go? I know I feel lighter and more positive as the tension eases from my shoulders. Who would have believed that the tax year could make you happier?
Screeching to a halt
The opposite of budging up and making space for winter is a complete stopping. Not so much an adjustment as a checking out of the season altogether.
My partner and I are sitting in a café with my friend Claire and her husband, Jacob. We’re having the type of slightly strained catch- up that comes with two bored children being forced to sit with two childless grown-ups who like kids but are not experienced enough to entertain them. Jacob is on particularly bad form, snapping at the kids and overreacting when his smallest tries to clamber onto his knee, knocking his phone out of his hand in the process. I gently ask him what’s wrong. He gruffly says ‘nothing’ before admitting that he’s feeling out of sorts, a bit depressed and a bit agitated. He says he doesn’t want to talk about it. Seeking safe ground, I ask him how his running is going, and he says, ‘I’ve stopped for winter now.’ I hesitate. My inner psychologist is desperate, positively itching , to point out that of course he’s struggling. Jacob is a runner. A proper runner. None of this wheezing along, glancing at your watch and wondering if 0.3 miles can be rounded up to the 5km that was your original intention when you set out (just me?). Jacob runs four times a week, casually cracking out 10 to 15 miles at a time. He often gets up at 5am to squeeze some miles in before work. Jacob is a runner. Only now, he isn’t. Now it is cold and dark, he has decided that running isn’t for him, so now he’s not doing anything.
I gently ask him if he thinks this could be affecting his mood. If having relied on regular doses of endorphins and oxytocin, all feel-good and repairing hormones, his brain might be wondering where all the good stuff has gone. What is he doing to
stress-bust now? Jacob’s answer: ‘Nothing.’ He hasn’t adapted his routine; he’s ground to a halt.
You don’t need to be a psychologist to see how problematic this is. Jacob’s belief that running and winter do not go together means he stopped completely but then struggled emotionally. This is a classic example of how we blame winter for ruining things when, in reality, the rigidity in Jacob’s approach to exercise is the problem. Jacob needed to recognize that a reasonable adjustment had to be made. His routine needed to look a little different to accommodate the changes that naturally come with winter. He didn’t need to stop. He needed to make space for winter. When he didn’t, he struggled.
Making reasonable adjustments
The first step to making space for winter is working out what we need to make space for. Sometimes, we have a carefully curated plan or set of objectives for the year, but life has other ideas and we are thrown off course. This is why it’s important to regularly tune into your feelings, energy and expectations throughout the year, and especially in the run-up to winter.
Try to let go of any assumptions you have about yourself. I’ve found that blanket beliefs such as ‘I’m a morning person’ shift and change during different seasons. Instead, we can uncover what we are actually feeling and what we might need to make space for.
Activity: Make an energy timeline
Take a blank piece of paper, or grab your journal, and draw a timeline of your previous year, from 12 months ago to the present month. This doesn’t need to be beautiful, just a simple line with 12 marks along it denoting the months of the year. Now plot your energy according to how you felt throughout the year. Which were your highenergy months and when did you chill out? Has your year held regular breaks and moments for restoration or has it been a steady uphill climb with no reprieve? Have you had chaotic months?
Whatever the energetic timeline of your year looks like, don’t judge it. This isn’t a time for harsh words or recrimination. It’s a time for noticing. When we see how our year has been to date, we can see what has worked well for us and what we may need now. This, in turn, tells us what we need to make space for.
If you notice that your winter held many expectations, plans and high-energy New Year’s resolutions, or if your year has felt like one continual effort with little reprieve, I encourage you to do this next year differently and implement the changes that will make winter into your safe space. A space where you can regroup. Where you can gather together your thoughts, your plans and your joy. Winter can become your place of peace, offering rest.
A place to be in harmony with nature. It is the one time of year when you can deeply exhale and let go of highenergy pressure, not least from yourself.
There is a big difference between stagnancy and stillness, and this is not a stagnant season. Much is going on beneath the surface. Winter is our charging pad, awaiting us like a warm hug that we can walk into to refuel and replenish for the year ahead. What do you need from winter this year? What will you make space for?
Chapter 2: A winter mood
On telling people I was writing a book about winter, I was often asked, ‘Is it about seasonal affective disorder?’ This book is not aimed exclusively at those who have SAD . After all, we all go through winter every year, with or without SAD . However, I couldn’t write about winter mood without acknowledging the challenges that SAD presents. If you’ve never heard of SAD , it is a type of depression that comes and goes in a seasonal pattern. It is most commonly seen in winter, when symptoms are more apparent and severe, although some people may experience SAD in summer.
I want to share my own experiences of SAD because it presented me with two sides of the winter coin. On the one hand, having SAD prevented me from seeing the gifts of winter. I wrote off the entire season and would feel panicky from the summer solstice onwards, a sense of dread settling in my stomach and weighing on my heart once I knew darker days were coming. On the other hand, in seeking ways to better
manage my SAD , I discovered a whole world of brightness, care and support, and my eyes were opened to a winter that I never knew existed. I would never say I am thankful for my SAD because it would be disingenuous to pretend that I’m ever grateful for any episode of depression, but I am grateful for what it taught me. What it showed me. What it prompted in me. I am grateful for what I discovered and grateful that I can share that with you in this book.
Winter is such a comforting and compassionate season in so many ways, but we have to recognize our mood in order to embrace the opportunity for self-care that winter affords us. It is very natural and normal to experience a slump in mood over winter. We’ll come on to look at the difference between winter blues and SAD and how to best manage your winter mood. But I want to start with SAD because, for me, learning about it was a game changer.
SAD can be dismissed as feeling low or lethargic over winter, but the symptoms mirror those seen in depression and wider depressive disorders. I won’t dwell too much on symptoms here, not least because it’s too easy to see familiar symptoms and rush to diagnose ourselves. However, I do want to emphasize the mirroring of symptoms of depression because the impacts can be severe. Those impacted by SAD may experience a persistent low mood, regardless of current life events. Often individuals may cry without being able to identify a cause or express why they feel unhappy. They may experience a loss of interest in hobbies or pleasurable activities. As a consequence,