My Christmas school reports were always the worst. I was slow to start up again after the summer break, and by the end of October my synapses would fire more slowly while I gently dozed off as the nights drew in and the light faded from the horizon.
Then I moved to Sweden in my forties. And rather than feel into my own natural rhythm, I would scoff and moan about the taciturn, morose winter Swedes who seemed a lifetime away from the sunny summer Swedes of the preceding months.
Until I got it. Until the winter penny dropped.
Less light means less energy. Nordic nations above 60 degrees latitude are genetically primed to move more slowly as we approach the winter solstice. Conserving their depleting energy stores they are less communicative and relational. And while they’re perhaps not even aware of it, the incomers still driving themselves at 60 miles an hour certainly do. And until you get with the plan, we may find it slightly discombobulating.
The energy then picks up a bit for the festival of lights, St. Lucia, celebrated on the 13th December, a forerunner to the winter equinox, now only days away.
For the past five years I have allowed myself the luxury of following my own annual cycle and take a long winter break from December 1st until January 6th. I hibernate in my own winter cocoon. Some years this reset leads to a resurgence of creativity and new ideas. Other years I just rest and allow myself to recuperate to face the year ahead with a recharged battery. I create a month with very little responsibility, other than to drift in the flow of the dark as it moves back towards the light.
And I follow that light. I do a long dog walk in the afternoon, catching as much of the light as I can. I fill my home with candles. I make no demands of myself, nor of those love. Christmas can be well prepared and then muddled through.
Clients, whom I appraise of my winter break at the start of our therapeutic relationship, find inspiration in the fact that I try and walk my walk, not just talk about it. They know that in a true emergency they can contact me. And that I was available to them throughout the summer.
I will write a little less this month, unless the winter cocoon gifts me with words that need to be shared.
When the light returns on the 21st December, I will welcome the dawn with open arms and give thanks for the true dawning of another cycle. But on New Year’s Eve you’ll find me tucked up in bed with the dog at my feet!
So, I’m signing off for 2024!
I wish you all a slothful December month. And for those of you who think ‘easy for her, but I can’t possibly indulge in a winter’s rest’, I only have one question. ‘Says who?’
See you in January.
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Lysanne Sizoo, international Mental Health specialist
With over two decades of experience, Lysanne Sizoo specializes in assisting expatriates, international professionals, and global nomads facing mental health challenges. Her professional journey has taken her to the United Kingdom, Sweden, New Zealand, and the Netherlands. In 2023 she relocated from Holland back to Stockholm for the second time around and meets clients both online and in her office on Södermalm.
Living away from one’s native country comes with its unique set of psychological hurdles, alongside the everyday ups and downs of life. This holds true for global nomads, cross-cultural adults, and children alike.
In these articles Lysanne writes about the different challenges that face us in life, as expats and as ordinary human beings. She uses her own experience as a jumping off point for reflections on how to use the lessons from therapy to live a more contended and congruent life.
If you have specific topics or issues that you’d like Lysanne to explore in her articles, please reach out via the contact form on this website or directly through her personal website. Rest assured, your privacy and confidentiality will be upheld.
