When you move to another country, it can feel like pressing a reset button on your life. You arrive expecting change, knowing that balance will take time and that uncertainty will slowly become part of your everyday life.
I come from a place where it never snows. Cold is familiar, but snowfall isn’t – it belongs more to imagination than memory. So when I moved to Canada, I carried both excitement and fear. Friends and family often worried about the winters on my behalf, and honestly, I did too.
Now, in my second Canadian winter, I’m beginning to notice things I didn’t fully understand the first time around.
Home Is Where the Heart Is
Many of my immigrant friends speak about a strong longing to go back home during the winter months, especially between December and March. I used to think I might not relate. I had lived away from home before; distance was not unfamiliar to me. Yet winter has a way of making even the most independent feel rooted in memory.
For many people, community is deeply embedded in culture – it’s not an accessory to life, it is life. It can be your family, friends you made along the way. Spending six months in grey, quieter days can feel isolating in ways that are hard to articulate. The dullness of winter doesn’t just slow time; it makes connection feel heavier, and belonging harder to hold on to.
There is comfort, though, in realizing that this experience isn’t unique. That sense of shared understanding matters more than we realize. The last thing you often want to do when you’re feeling low is ‘see people’ – and yet, community is one of the reasons humanity has survived as long as it has. Whether in early civilizations or today, we are stronger together. Or as they say in Game of Thrones, “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”
Learning to Slow Down Through Another Lens
One of the most striking things I’ve experienced here is the collective pause that comes with the holidays. Ten days that feel like a reset – a shared understanding that it’s okay to slow down.
Life often moves quickly, filled with plans, milestones, and expectations. While that momentum can be energizing, it rarely leaves much room to pause or truly rest. Over time, the pursuit of education, passion, career, relationships, everything – begins to blur into one continuous motion. Burnout doesn’t arrive suddenly; it settles quietly.
So the idea of collectively relaxing, even briefly, feels refreshing.
I realized something unsettling, I don’t really have hobbies anymore. And that realization stayed with me. I was once the child who painted, drew mandalas, played with makeup simply because it felt fun. Somewhere along the way, that version of me was left behind. This winter, I plan on spending my days recovering, painting, reading, and rediscovering hobbies.
And maybe it’s time I start living a little for my nine-year-old self – doing the things I once imagined adulthood would allow me to do.
The Little Joys of Life
When life slows down this Canadian winter, it creates space not just for reflection, but for remembering. I’ve been thinking a lot about the small things that once made me happy, long before productivity, milestones, and constant striving became the measure of a good life.
There’s nothing wrong with ambition. Promotions, raises, and building something meaningful all matter. But somewhere along the way, the quieter joys that require no investment, no validation; tend to fade into the background.
One day this winter, I turned on the radio while doing chores. It was an unplanned moment, but it took me back instantly to mornings when my dad would listen to the radio, and happiness felt effortless. Now, I make it a point to let it play for a few minutes each day. Sometimes, I even dance around the room, just long enough to feel present again.
It’s a small ritual, but a grounding one. And in this slower season, these are the ways I’m learning to navigate winter – by returning, briefly, to what once felt simple and true.
Enough about me. I’d genuinely love to know:
What are you doing this January to make your days feel a little more intentional?
As we learn to move through winter with more intention, it’s also a reminder of how much our environments shape how we feel, learn, and grow. At Green Schools Green Future, we work to create healthier, more sustainable school spaces – places where children can feel supported, connected, and inspired, no matter the season.
If this reflection resonated with you, consider supporting our work. Donnez to the GSGF Foundation and help make a difference! Your donation helps us build and strengthen schools that nurture both well-being and environmental responsibility – one classroom, one community at a time.
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