When My Garden Rests, I Struggle Too

Every year, without fail, winter sneaks up on me. The garden beds are quiet. The daily rhythm that once had me outside checking on seedlings, harvesting meals, and moving with the sun slows completely. 

With this slowdown comes something I don’t always anticipate:  

The winter slump.

Every year is different. Some of our winters are extra kind to us and it's much more enjoyable to still be outside, lending to a slump that is maybe only a weekend or two. 

This year... oh this year... It has been the exact opposite. 

We have had more snow than we have had in YEARS. 

Our very frosty little seed library with our raspberries covered in more than enough snow!

Today has the windchill feeling like -27 Celsius (-16.6 Fahrenheit) and even though I braved the cold to shovel my parents driveway, I am not motived enough to step back outside to get my seed starting mix out of the greenhouse, which evidently would help me feel less 'slumpy'. 

I find this season particularly hard because gardening isn’t just a hobby for me. It’s woven into my days, my routines, and my sense of purpose. 

When the garden goes still, part of me feels like it does too. 

Motivation dips, inspiration feels harder to reach, and there is this quiet pressure whispering that I *should* be doing more; teaching, planning, preparing, learning. Yet, all I really want to do is to curl up with a warm blanket, a fantastic book and hibernate right along with the soil! 

But... that's just nature isn't it? 

The garden rests in winter. Perennials die back. Soil regenerates. Seeds wait ever so patiently for spring.

Nature models rest so clearly, yet we're often expected to push through winter at full speed and question why it feels impossible! 

And as much as I wish I could hibernate right now, I’ve learned winter doesn’t have to be all dormancy.

For me, seed starting is that gentle bridge between rest and renewal.

There is something rejuvenating about playing with soil! Pressing tiny seeds into place and checking far too often if that first little seedling has sprouted. 

I don’t need a thawed garden or warm spring air to feel like a gardener again. A few soil blocks, a handful of seeds, and a small corner of light does wonders! 

Interestingly, I find once our grow lights are on, something shifts.

I’ve noticed that spending time around my seedlings lifts my mood in a way that’s hard to explain, but easy to feel. 

Full-spectrum grow lights mimic natural sunlight and many people online have said they find grow lights to help with their Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

Maybe that's why I find myself in our grow room multiple times a day?

An adorable basil seedling growing within our smallest soil blocks.

While indoor seedlings are not a cure-all, the combination of light, routine, and nurturing new life can bring a quiet sense of steadiness back into my days.

If you’re feeling stuck in a winter slump, I want you to know you’re not alone. 

You’re not failing. 

It’s okay to feel uninspired. It’s okay to slow down and it's ok to not focus on demands and checklists right now. 

You’re simply in a season of rest.

Spring always comes, and sometimes it begins under a grow light right in the middle of winter.

If you need me, you'll find me digging the snow away from our greenhouse door, so I can gather that seed starting mix. 

Until Next Time, 

Sarah & The Sunnyhill Homestead Family