Welcoming Stillness: Words, images, and unmissable ritual for a wintry bath by Sahra Samnani. 

The wind whistles wildly against the windows, carrying with it the chill of winter’s quiet insistence.

Inside, a blanket beckons, the kettle hums, and the flicker of firelight promises comfort. This moment—this lull after the holiday bustle—is where we can find ourselves again. The laughter and clinks of dishes, the rustle of wrapping paper, and the glow of twinkling lights are now soft memories. The bells of Christmas are quiet, resting. Winter has arrived fully, blanketing the world in stillness. The festive season, with its bustling energy and outward expression, calls now for balance—a return to rhythm, a grounding into stability.

Nature, as always, is our wisest teacher. The bare branches, the slow and unhurried animals—they whisper gently: this is a time for rest. A time for gathering inward, channeling energy into stillness and potential. It’s never made sense to me, setting resolutions for a new year in the dead of winter, when the natural world calls for something different, particularly here in the northern hemisphere.

Winter invites us to ground, into our homes and ourselves, to create space and embrace rituals that deepen introspection and nourish our being.

Perhaps begin by lighting a candle, its warm glow -a small rebellion against the long winter night. Take a few deep breaths, feeling the steadiness of the stillness around you. You might, open your journal, letting words flow freely like snowflakes settling on untouched ground.

You may ask yourself:

What am I yearning to create? 

What is my body asking for—rest, vitality, fortification, playfulness, freedom?

Who is my heart asking me to become?

What fears do I want to release into the stillness of the season?

These quiet moments are not for action but for gathering. Like seeds resting in frozen earth, we are preparing—not rushing—to bloom. When the first green tendrils of spring peek through the frost, we, too, will feel the call to stretch, to unfurl, to embrace the world with new energy.Our homes hold space for this stillness. As we tuck away ornaments and shimmering lights, we create room for the quiet magic of winter. A favourite chair by the fire becomes an anchor. A cleared table invites a moment of creation or contemplation. Even the soft shuffle of rearranged cushions or the addition of a winter bouquet—branches of foraged evergreens or dried flowers—can remind us of the beauty in simplicity.

Let us gather our journals and take moments to reflect, to feel the gentle hum of potential that winter offers. Let us steep teas of ginger, cardamom, or clove and sip them slowly by firelight. Let us thicken the layers of blankets on our beds, take long baths that smell of winter, scatter candles about, and embrace the long nights as time to dream.When the wind howls outside, the warmth within becomes all the sweeter. The quiet branches, the deep light of winter afternoons, the flicker of a flame—these are gifts, invitations to slow down, to find meaning not in doing but in simply being.

So, friends, let us not rush the season. Let us imbue our homes and hearts with the soft, steady rhythm of winter. Set your intentions gently by firelight. Allow the earth’s wisdom to guide you. And when the time comes—when spring begins to bloom—you, too, will awaken and flourish. For now, we gather ourselves, wrapping the season’s stillness around us like a cherished quilt. In this quiet, we find not emptiness but promise, the faint hum of life waiting to bloom.

A winter ritual and recipe for grounding: 

A Deep Winter's Bath

Handfuls of cardamom, clove and fresh rosemary

1 cup of Epsom salts

Candles (perhaps one too many)

Fresh fluffy towels

Place the small spices in a satchel and toss the Epsom salts and rosemary into steaming waters. Soak until soothed.

You can find more of Sahra's words, wisdom, and glimpses of her visual poetry through her Instagram page @sahrasamnani.