Not the discipline of productivity.
Not the discipline of pushing through.
But the discipline of not taking on what doesn’t belong to you.
Winter has a way of showing us what we’re carrying. Energy pulls inward. Life slows. There’s less room for extra weight—especially the kind we carry without realizing it.
This is often when borrowed trouble becomes clear.
Other people’s emotions.
Problems that haven’t happened yet.
Conversations played out in your head.
A tight feeling you call “empathy.”
None of this arrives loudly. It slips in through habit.
There’s a difference between caring and overextended empathy.
Caring means being present when something is actually happening.
Overextended empathy is what we do ahead of time.
It looks like reading the room before anyone speaks.
Bracing for feelings that haven’t been expressed.
Trying to make things easier so no one gets uncomfortable.
Carrying worry “just in case.”
This isn’t wrong. Many of us learned it early.
But it isn’t the same as care.
A lot of what we call empathy is really a way of protecting ourselves—by staying alert, prepared, and one step ahead. We borrow trouble so it doesn’t surprise us later.
Over time, this kind of empathy wears us thin.
It pulls us out of ourselves.
It makes us tired in ways rest doesn’t fix.
It blurs the line between what’s ours and what isn’t.
Winter offers a gentle correction.
Self-containment doesn’t mean shutting down.
It doesn’t mean becoming cold or distant.
It simply means staying with yourself while being with others.
Spiritually speaking, it’s the difference between holding compassion and holding everything.
You don’t need to solve the year ahead.
You don’t need to manage other people’s feelings.
You don’t need to carry tomorrow’s worries today.
Some things aren’t yours to hold—and never were.
A Small Practice for the Week
Once a day, pause and ask: “Is this actually mine?”
If it isn’t, imagine setting it down.
No fixing. No explaining. No guilt.
Just return it.
Winter doesn’t ask for big insights.
It asks for honesty.
And honesty, practiced quietly, brings you back to yourself.
Blessings to you as you move through this season of rest, recalibration, and steadier ground.
~ Sarah