At this time of year, some of us suffer a depressive state that doctors call ‘seasonal affective disorder’ (SAD). I suspect I’m one of them, though I prefer to see my sluggishness and low mood as hibernation. Do I need ‘treatment’ – or an appreciation of a powerful need to slow down in time to the rhythms of winter? 

Some animals approach the challenging winter months by shutting down, keeping activity to a minimum. Their body temperature and metabolic rate drop and their breathing and heart rate slow down. Some creatures prepare for the great shut down by eating extra food which turns into body fat, vital energy for the lean months.

Listless

Of course, unlike bats, hedgehogs and dormice, the only UK species who truly hibernate, I seem to enter a phase of torpor which seems to me entirely commensurate with the demands of the season. I crave warm, hearty meals full of root vegetables and slow acting carbohydrates. I tend to put on a little more weight, or as I prefer to call it, my winter coat. Those extra carbs gently lurch me into a happily listless state especially after dining. My cultural tastes tend towards feel-good and cosy.

I’m early to bed and slow to rise. My physical, emotional and psychological states favour warmth, safety and predictability. But modern living and working make no concessions for our need to adapt to these ‘natural states’. We drag ourselves from bed before sunrise and battle through the rush hour despite the hazards of snow and ice. We eschew hearty meals to maintain a calorie-counted food intake that fuels sedentary lifestyles.

The contrast between what our body craves in winter and what our culture and economy demand seems to me to be the major cause of anxiety and depression at this time of year.

Now my cancer has enforced upon me a withdrawal from the world of work, I can settle into the natural rhythms of winter and meet its energy-conserving stillness without guilt. Without the busyness of life, I can be still too, noticing more, feeling more, reflecting more. In her beautiful work, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, Katherine May notices that a time we associate with hibernation is critical to growth: