How to Winter: Can Changing Your Mindset Change Your Experience of Winter?

Reflections on Kari Leibowitz's book, seasonal rhythms, perimenopause, and finding more joy in the colder months.

Winter is ______.

How would you fill in that blank?

I recently asked this question on Instagram and received a fascinating assortment of responses:

“Restorative time to savor.” “Snow-kissed contentment.” “Snow globe.” “Hibernate.” “Cozy.” “Hygge.” “Slippers.” “Calm.” “Preparation.” “Dark.”

My response?

Bleak.

Clearly, I could use a little guidance in this department!

For those of us living in northern Minnesota, winter occupies a substantial portion of our year. Yet how often do we spend those months waiting for spring, rather than appreciating what winter has to offer?

Last February, while attending a snowshoeing class at Back to Basics in Pine River, I learned about How to Winter: Harness Your Mindset to Thrive on Cold, Dark, or Difficult Days by Kari Leibowitz, PhD.

I decided then that I would read and review the book, both for personal reasons and because pursuing and sharing knowledge that enriches life is an important part of my sense of purpose.

I'm delighted to report that this book has earned a place among my top ten favorite nonfiction reads.

More importantly, it has given me something I wasn't expecting.

Excitement and hope for the winter ahead.

What Can We Learn From People Who Embrace Winter?

Kari Leibowitz earned her doctorate in psychology from Stanford University, where she studied how our mindsets influence health and well-being.

As a Fulbright Scholar, she spent a year studying wintertime mindsets in Tromsø, Norway, a city that experiences approximately two months without the sun rising above the horizon.

What intrigued her was that many residents didn't simply tolerate winter. They appreciated it.

Rather than viewing the season exclusively through the lens of cold, darkness, and inconvenience, they recognized opportunities for outdoor recreation, rest, coziness, and connection.

Leibowitz wanted to understand why.

Her research led her to explore how our expectations, attention, and language influence our experiences.

The book combines psychological research, cultural traditions, personal storytelling, and practical suggestions into an engaging exploration of how we might approach winter differently.

And importantly, she doesn't suggest that we simply ignore winter's challenges or force ourselves to be positive.

Instead, she invites us to become curious about the stories we tell ourselves and whether those stories help us.

Why Our Wintertime Mindset Matters

Our brains are constantly interpreting the world around us.

We develop expectations based on previous experiences, cultural influences, and the messages we hear from others.

Those expectations influence what we notice.

For example, if we believe winter is miserable, we're more likely to pay attention to icy sidewalks, bitter winds, early sunsets, and the inconvenience of bundling up.

And let's face it, those inconveniences are real!

But if we begin looking for what winter makes possible, we may notice different things.

The beauty of freshly fallen snow. The quiet of an early morning. The warmth of a fireplace. An opportunity to slow down. The pleasure of a hot beverage after spending time outdoors.

Psychologists call our tendency to notice information that supports existing beliefs confirmation bias.

Our expectations don't necessarily change the weather, but they can influence how we interpret and respond to it.

This is one of the most compelling ideas in Leibowitz's book.

We may not control the season, but we have some influence over how we experience it.

Three Ways to Approach Winter Differently

Leibowitz organizes her book around three broad strategies: Appreciate Winter, Make It Special, and Get Outside.

Each section explores the psychology behind these approaches and offers practical exercises readers can experiment with.

1. Appreciate Winter: Change What You Notice

The first step is examining our expectations.

Do we automatically assume winter will be exhausting, depressing, or inconvenient?

Are we anticipating the difficulties before the season even begins?

One of Leibowitz's suggestions is to identify specific things we're looking forward to about winter.

Not what we think we should enjoy, but what genuinely appeals to us.

Maybe it's cross-country skiing, a favorite sweater, reading by the fireplace, or having more time for indoor hobbies.

I particularly appreciate her suggestion to divide winter into three distinct seasons: early, middle, and late winter.

Rather than treating winter as one long, monotonous stretch, we can recognize that each period has its own character and possibilities.

Early winter might be a time for preparing our homes, celebrating traditions, and anticipating the first snowfall.

Midwinter might invite more rest, quiet hobbies, and meaningful gatherings.

Late winter could become a time for noticing the changing light, planning outdoor adventures, and anticipating spring.

These are just examples. The idea is to create a seasonal rhythm that feels meaningful to you.

Another suggestion I love is celebrating the end of daylight saving time.

Instead of treating the earlier darkness as something to dread, why not welcome the transition with a special dinner, gathering, or cozy evening?

I find this especially appealing because it turns something we typically complain about into an opportunity for celebration.

2. Make Winter Special: Create Rituals Worth Anticipating

Winter offers opportunities for experiences that feel particularly enjoyable during the colder months.

Think about candlelit dinners, warm drinks, soft lighting, fireplaces, homemade soups, puzzles, and gatherings with friends.

In Scandinavian cultures, the concept of hygge is often associated with coziness, comfort, and enjoying life's simple pleasures.

But we don't need to adopt another culture's traditions to create meaningful winter rituals.

We can develop our own.

One of the concepts I found especially interesting was the distinction between high-energy excitement and quieter forms of happiness.

We often associate happiness with enthusiasm, adventure, and stimulation.

But what about calm, contentment, peace, and ease?

These quieter positive emotions deserve attention, too.

As someone who values productivity, I sometimes struggle to give myself permission to rest.

Winter may offer an opportunity to practice something different.

I have a fireplace that I love, yet I don't always take the time to sit beside it and simply enjoy being still.

I also practice yoga nidra daily, but I'm beginning to wonder where else I could invite more rest into my life.

Perhaps winter doesn't need to be another season of accomplishing more.

Perhaps it can also be a season of appreciating what already exists.

A few winter rituals I'm considering:

• Regular puzzling sessions with a close friend.

• More gatherings centered around the board games my husband and I enjoy.

• A winter soup challenge, experimenting with new recipes throughout the season.

• Bringing candles back into our home.

• More evenings reading beside the fireplace.

• Making hot tea a more intentional part of my daily routine.

None of these activities is particularly complicated.

That's part of their appeal.

They create opportunities for connection, enjoyment, and rest without requiring elaborate planning.

3. Get Outside: Learn to Enjoy the Elements

One of the most interesting observations in Leibowitz's research is that people who appreciate winter often continue spending time outdoors.

Rather than viewing cold weather as a reason to remain inside, they adapt their clothing and activities to the season.

In Norway, the concept of friluftsliv, often translated as open-air living, reflects a cultural appreciation for spending time in nature.

Of course, enjoying winter outdoors requires preparation.

Appropriate clothing matters.

I love cross-country skiing and snowshoeing, but I don't do either nearly as often as I'd like.

I also walk our dog regularly, although when temperatures drop well below zero, getting both of us dressed can feel like an expedition!

One of my personal winter goals is to become more skilled at dressing comfortably for the weather, particularly finding a way to keep my face warm without fogging my glasses.

Leibowitz also explores sauna traditions and cold-water bathing.

I already enjoy our Finnish outdoor wood-burning sauna year-round, typically using it several times each week.

It's one winter ritual I don't need convincing to embrace!

Cold-water immersion, however, isn't necessary for enjoying winter and isn't appropriate for everyone. People with cardiovascular conditions or other medical concerns should seek individualized guidance before experimenting with extreme temperatures.

The broader message is that outdoor enjoyment doesn't have to mean an ambitious adventure.

A short walk, a few minutes appreciating fresh snowfall, or sharing an outdoor activity with a friend can be meaningful.

The goal isn't to conquer winter.

It's to discover ways to participate in it.

A Personal Reflection: Perimenopause and My Changing Relationship With Winter

Something else I've been reflecting on is when my own relationship with winter began to change.

Interestingly, I noticed a shift in my early 40s, around the same time I entered perimenopause.

Was that a coincidence?

I honestly don't know.

But I found myself becoming less tolerant of the cold and darkness. For the first time, I began to understand the appeal of becoming a snowbird.

Spending part of the winter somewhere warm and sunny suddenly sounded rather wonderful!

As a naturopathic doctor who works extensively with women navigating perimenopause and menopause, I find this timing intriguing.

During perimenopause, fluctuating hormones can influence sleep, mood, temperature regulation, energy, and our response to stress.

Winter brings its own physiological and environmental changes, including shorter daylight hours, altered routines, and sometimes reduced physical activity.

Could these changes interact with one another?

Possibly.

However, there isn't enough information to conclude that perimenopause caused my changing attitude toward winter.

And I certainly wouldn't suggest that every woman experiences winter differently because of hormonal changes.

Still, I think it's a worthwhile question.

Many women in midlife are navigating significant changes in their bodies, responsibilities, relationships, and priorities.

Sometimes those changes invite us to reconsider routines and expectations that once felt perfectly comfortable.

Perhaps our relationship with winter deserves the same curiosity.

Rather than assuming that we simply dislike the season, we can explore what has changed and what might help us feel more comfortable and supported.

What About Seasonal Affective Disorder?

It's important to distinguish ordinary seasonal changes from seasonal affective disorder (SAD).

SAD is a form of depression characterized by a recurring seasonal pattern. For many people, symptoms begin during the fall or winter and improve during spring.

Symptoms may include persistent low mood, loss of interest in previously enjoyable activities, significant changes in sleep or appetite, fatigue, difficulty concentrating, and feelings of hopelessness.

Experiencing some seasonal tiredness or preferring quieter activities during winter does not automatically mean someone has SAD.

At the same time, persistent depressive symptoms should not be dismissed as simply a negative mindset.

Clinical depression deserves appropriate evaluation and treatment.

Leibowitz encourages readers to recognize that seasonal changes in energy and behavior may sometimes reflect normal adaptation rather than illness.

I appreciate this distinction.

As a clinician, I also believe it's important to investigate persistent symptoms rather than make assumptions about their cause.

Sleep disruption, fatigue, and mood changes can have multiple contributing factors, including hormonal changes, medical conditions, and mental health concerns.

Mindset can be a useful part of supporting well-being, but it isn't a replacement for medical care when that care is needed.

Winter Is Also a Metaphor for Difficult Seasons in Life

Perhaps the most meaningful message in How to Winter extends beyond the weather.

We all experience difficult seasons.

Illness. Grief. Uncertainty. Major life transitions. Unexpected changes.

Sometimes these experiences arrive without warning, and we cannot control how long they last.

Leibowitz invites readers to consider how the same principles that help us approach winter differently might also help us navigate life's challenges.

Can we recognize what is difficult without allowing it to define the entire experience?

Can we create small moments of comfort or connection?

Can we allow ourselves to rest rather than constantly pushing forward?

Can we remain curious about what a difficult season might teach us?

This doesn't mean every hardship has a hidden benefit or that we should feel grateful for suffering.

It means we can acknowledge difficulty while remaining open to moments of meaning, connection, and enjoyment.

I find that perspective both practical and reassuring.

Your Own Winter Experiment

One of my favorite features of the book is that each chapter concludes with practical exercises.

Leibowitz doesn't present a rigid formula for enjoying winter.

Instead, she offers ideas readers can experiment with and adapt to their own circumstances.

I'd encourage you to approach this winter with the same spirit of curiosity.

Consider starting with three simple questions:

1. What am I genuinely looking forward to this winter?

Think of a few experiences, activities, or traditions you enjoy.

2. What is one winter ritual I'd like to create or revisit?

It might involve rest, connection, creativity, movement, or time outdoors.

3. What words do I use when talking about winter?

Notice whether your conversations focus primarily on inconvenience and frustration or whether you also acknowledge the season's pleasures.

You don't need to love every snowy day, icy road, or subzero temperature.

I certainly don't expect to!

But perhaps we can become more intentional about noticing what winter offers rather than spending months wishing it away.

A Different Kind of Winter Ahead

What I appreciate most about Kari Leibowitz's book is that she doesn't ask us to deny reality.

Winter can be cold, dark, inconvenient, and exhausting.

But it can also be beautiful, restorative, peaceful, adventurous, and full of opportunities for connection.

Both experiences can be true.

Reading How to Winter has encouraged me to reconsider my expectations, my relationship with rest, and the language I use when discussing the weather.

I'm looking forward to experimenting with new rituals, spending more time outdoors, and finding ways to appreciate the different stages of winter.

And perhaps most importantly, I'm approaching the coming season with something I haven't felt in quite some time.

Excitement and hope.

So I'll leave you with the same question I asked at the beginning.

Winter is ______.

How will you fill in the blank?

Book reviewed: How to Winter: Harness Your Mindset to Thrive on Cold, Dark, or Difficult Days by Kari Leibowitz, PhD (2024).

Dr. Rachel Oppitz is a naturopathic doctor and owner of Itasca Naturopathic Clinic in Park Rapids, Minnesota, where she focuses on women's hormonal health, perimenopause, menopause, and whole-person wellness.