01/24/2026
Grounding Into Winter
A practice of weight, breath, and quiet strength
Winter invites a different kind of yoga.
The days shorten. The ground hardens. Nature does not rush forward. Instead, it settles downward, conserving energy, drawing nutrients inward, and trusting the unseen work happening beneath the surface. Our practice, when aligned with the season, mirrors this same intelligence.
Grounding in winter is not about effort or achievement. It is about weight. Contact. Listening. Allowing the body to be held by the earth rather than constantly lifting away from it.
The posture captured here reflects that relationship. Wide, stable, and rooted, the body lowers toward the ground, not as a collapse, but as a conscious yielding. The head descends. The breath deepens. The legs create structure while the spine softens into gravity’s support. This is grounding as an active conversation, not passivity.
In winter, grounding begins with the feet.
The feet remind us that we are supported even when momentum slows. Spreading the toes, pressing through the outer edges, feeling the floor beneath us anchors the nervous system. The body receives a clear message. You are here. You are safe. You do not need to rush.
As the legs widen and steady, the pelvis finds its natural place between effort and release. Strong legs allow the spine to surrender. When the foundation is trustworthy, the upper body can soften without fear. This balance between stability and ease is one of winter’s quiet lessons.
Breath changes in this season as well.
Rather than sharp or quick patterns, winter breath is slow, expansive, and deep. Each inhale gently lifts awareness. Each exhale draws energy downward into the earth. The pauses between breaths become just as important as the breath itself. Silence becomes part of the practice.
Grounding postures support the parasympathetic nervous system. They encourage rest and repair. They remind us that stillness is productive. That presence is enough. That being rooted does not mean being stuck. It means being prepared.
Winter can feel heavy for many people. Lower light levels, colder temperatures, and increased isolation can affect mood, motivation, and energy. Grounding practices offer a steady counterbalance. They do not try to fix winter. They help us live well within it.
In teaching and in personal practice, this season asks for restraint and care.
Shorter sequences. Longer holds. Fewer transitions. More pauses. Props that bring the floor closer. Chairs, blocks, walls, and blankets become allies rather than accommodations. The goal is not depth of shape but depth of sensation and awareness.
Grounding also extends beyond the mat.
Winter is a time to simplify schedules, protect energy, and honor natural limits. Just as trees release their leaves, we can release unnecessary demands. We can choose warmth, nourishment, and rest without guilt. These are not indulgences. They are seasonal wisdom.
The image here captures a moment of trust. The body trusts the ground. The practitioner trusts the pose. There is strength, but it is quiet. There is effort, but it is measured. There is presence without performance.
This is winter yoga.
Not driven. Not flashy. Not loud. Instead, it is steady, rooted, and deeply alive beneath the surface.
As you move through this season, let your practice meet you where you are. Let the ground do some of the work. Let stillness be enough. And remember that growth often happens when nothing appears to be happening at all.
Winter is not a pause from practice. It is an invitation to practice differently.
With steadiness and care,
Michelle Rae Sobi
