Slow Flow Mornings

Slow Flow Mornings: A Season of Becoming

Slow winter mornings are my favorite. After a few weeks of feeling off and an unusually demanding school year, I stepped out to feed with my husband today—and it reminded me just how much I’ve missed the quiet rhythm of winter on the farm.

Recently, I’ve stumbled across countless posts arguing that January isn’t the “real” new year because the Earth is still resting. It is social media, so take it lightly, but the endless references to the Gregorian calendar sent the lifelong student in me searching for answers. I won’t drag you into my findings (it gets nerdy fast), but if curiosity calls, here’s a starting point: Gregorian Rabbit Hole Starts here

What stayed with me was a simple thought:
If spring is the Earth’s awakening, then winter must be its gestation period.

When I used to grow flowers, there were varieties often called “slow flowers”—started in late fall or winter so they could quietly root and be ready to bloom when the world warmed again. It made me realize that much of nature’s beauty begins long before we ever see it. Winter is not an ending; it’s a becoming.

Honoring the Slow of the Season

What I love most about winter is that Mother Nature is quietly preparing her next act. And in our own way, we often do the same—vision boards, resolutions, intentions. Half of the world is in a season where the cold naturally slows us down, nudging us toward reflection and steadiness.

In my younger years, I wished winter away. Spring and summer felt more vibrant, more beautiful, more alive. But in midlife, I’m learning to notice what winter offers: a breathtaking sunset on the drive home from errands, the soft colors of a sunrise before chores begin, the way frosted grass releases a gentle steam as the sun melts it awake.

These moments are small, but they are everything.

A Time to Rest, Root, and Prepare

Winter is a season for rest, planning, and reflection—for caring deeply for ourselves and the people we love. It’s the season where we rebuild the strength and resilience we’ll need when the busy accelerates again.

This is the slow that supports the flow.

And maybe that is winter’s quiet wisdom:
Becoming takes time. Rest is not retreat—it’s preparation.

Before you close this tab, take a moment to ask yourself:

What is quietly gestating in your life right now, waiting for spring?

If this reflection resonated with you, join me inside The Slow Flow State Collective—a space for intention, grounded living, and honoring every season of becoming.

I love you. I support you. I am cheering you on.