The Winter Solstice whispers a truth the world too often drowns out: we are meant to rest. It is the longest night, the stillest of moments when the earth exhales and urges us to do the same. Within the Celtic calendar, this day marks the return of light, but the light comes slowly, tenderly, without rush. In the depths of dormancy, we are invited into an ancient rhythm that is out of sync with modernity’s demands. Recovery, too, asks us to reclaim this rhythm—to unlearn the striving, the pushing, the endless pursuit of doing, and instead embrace the radical act of being.
Winter’s invitation is not passive. It is deliberate, sacred, and countercultural. Rest is not a retreat into nothingness but a reclamation of everything: our energy, our creativity, our worth. In her revolutionary work, Rest Is Resistance, Tricia Hersey calls rest a portal to liberation. It is an act of resistance against the grind culture that treats us as commodities rather than souls. Devon Price echoes this in There Is No Such Thing as Lazy, debunking the myths that tie our value to productivity. Together, they challenge us to step off the hamster wheel of endless doing and root ourselves in the soil of our inherent enoughness.
Rest as Dormancy: Lessons from Nature
In the Celtic worldview, winter holds the medicine of dormancy. The trees do not grow, yet their roots deepen. The animals burrow and conserve, trusting the unseen work of stillness. The seeds lie beneath the frozen earth, gathering strength for a spring not yet visible. This is not inactivity—but preparation, restoration, and quiet transformation.
What if we approached our own lives with this reverence for dormancy? In recovery, there is often a temptation to sprint toward healing, to mark progress through external milestones. But true recovery, like the seasons, moves in cycles. Winter teaches us to honor the pause. To rest is to trust that growth is happening in unseen places, that the stillness is not a void but a sanctuary.
The Many Faces of Rest
Rest is not a monolith. It takes on as many forms as there are people and as many layers as there are needs. Tricia Hersey speaks of rest as resistance to grind culture, but it is also an act of deep listening to ourselves. Dr. Sandra Daulton-Smith, who introduced us to the seven types of rest, invites us to consider how different kinds of rest nourish us:
- Physical rest replenishes the body, through sleep, naps, or gentle stillness.
- Mental rest offers space to quiet the mind, to set down the endless list of things to do, and simply be present.
- Emotional rest allows us to release the weight of carrying others’ expectations or navigating our inner storms.
- Creative rest inspires by stepping back from output, giving room for imagination to breathe.
- Social rest gifts us solitude or time with only those who truly nourish us.
Recovery asks us to discern what kind of rest we need. It may feel indulgent, even selfish, but it is neither. It is sovereign. When we rest, we reclaim what grind culture tries to steal: our autonomy, our humanity, our right to simply exist without justification.
Hibernation as Spiritual Practice
The Celtic calendar reminds us that hibernation is holy. The Winter Solstice is a time to honor the darkness, not as an absence of light but as its cradle. In the womb of winter, we are invited to reflect, to nourish what needs tending, and to release what cannot be carried into the coming year.
In recovery, hibernation might look like stepping back from obligations that drain us, saying no to commitments that crowd our capacity, or simply carving out space to rest without guilt. It is a time to listen to our souls and respond with gentleness. What might hibernation feel like in your life? What rhythms would allow you to burrow into the safety of rest?
Rest as a Radical Act of Recovery
Recovery itself is radical. It is an act of liberation from systems that seek to control, commodify, or diminish us. Rest, as Tricia Hersey teaches, is the root of that liberation. In grind culture, rest is framed as a reward for productivity—a prize to be earned. But in recovery, we learn that rest is our birthright.
Devon Price reminds us that laziness is a myth weaponized to keep us striving, ashamed, and disconnected from our own rhythms. What if we rejected that myth altogether? What if we stopped measuring our worth by what we accomplish and instead honored who we are in our stillness?
Rest is not an escape; it is a return. It is a return to our bodies, our breath, our essence. It is a refusal to let the world’s urgency become our own.
The Power of Conserving Energy
Winter conservation is an act of wisdom, not weakness. The animals that hibernate do not apologize for their dormancy; they embody its necessity. Likewise, in recovery, conservation is not about giving less—it is about giving wisely. We are not meant to pour endlessly from an empty cup. Winter invites us to fill it, slowly and steadily, until we are ready to pour again.
This is the season to ask: Where am I spending energy that no longer serves me? What am I holding onto that I might release? Recovery is not a marathon of endless effort. It is a cycle of giving and receiving, of action and rest.
Rituals for the Solstice Season
To deepen your relationship with rest, consider integrating small rituals into this season of dormancy:
- Create a Rest Altar: Gather symbols of rest—a soft blanket, a candle, a pinecone, or a winter leaf. Let this space remind you that rest is sacred.
- Practice Intentional Napping: As Hersey encourages, reclaim the nap as an act of resistance. Lie down without shame and let yourself drift. (Check the events page on the Sober Curator! Thirsty For Wonder hosts a “Rest for Recovery” call every Monday at 1 p.m. ET)
- Journal with Winter Questions: What does my body need right now? What am I conserving for the spring to come? What might I release into the long night?
- Engage in Restorative Movement: Gentle stretches, slow walks, or even stillness can honor your body’s need for rest.
The Light Will Come
The Winter Solstice holds the paradox of rest and return. It is both the longest night and the promise of growing light. But the light does not rush. It grows slowly, respecting the rhythm of dormancy. In recovery, we often feel this tension—the desire to move forward and the necessity of staying still. Both are sacred.
Let this Solstice be a reminder: you are not lazy. You are enough, right here, in the stillness. You are growing in unseen places, gathering strength for a spring not yet visible. Rest is your resistance. Rest is your sovereignty. Rest is your gift to yourself and to the world.
May you burrow deeply this season, trusting the wisdom of dormancy and the slow, sacred return of the light.
THIRSTY FOR WONDER: Anne Marie Cribben is a passionate recovery coach and spiritual companion based in Washington, DC. As the founder of Thirsty For Wonder, she offers 1:1 coaching, spiritual companionship, and recovery support rooted in compassion and empowerment. Creator of The Wellspring: A Celtic Recovery Journey, Anne Marie blends the Celtic calendar with sobriety, connecting participants to ancient wisdom and nature’s rhythms. A fierce advocate for sobriety as liberation and self-love, Anne Marie challenges the targeted marketing of alcohol to women and promotes authentic, joyful living. Her approach goes beyond addiction recovery, fostering a life of vibrancy and fulfillment.
In her personal life, Anne Marie enjoys baking, cooking, poetry, being a Swiftie, weight lifting, reading, embroidery, and creating mocktails. She treasures time with friends and embraces creativity in all forms.
SPIRITUAL GANGSTER: Welcome to the ‘Spiritual Gangster’ wing of The Sober Curator, a haven for those on a sober journey with a twist of spiritual sass. Here, we invite you to plunge headfirst into a world of meditation, astrology, intentionality, philosophy and spiritual reflection – all while keeping your feet (and sobriety) firmly on the ground.
