Not every winter needs to be escaped. Some are asking us to become quiet enough to hear what comes next. For much of my life, I believed that growth happened by moving forward. Set the goal. Solve the problem. Help someone else. Keep going. Then life introduced me to winter, the metaphorical period of living with seasons. Not the kind measured by snowstorms or a calendar, but an inner winter—a season when the familiar energy disappears, old identities begin to loosen, and certainty quietly slips away. My first instinct was to resist it. I assumed something had gone wrong. Surely