As I settle into my second winter in Iceland, I notice how naturally stillness arrives in my body. The cold feels sharp, and the dark days stretch on in a way that slows everything down. There’s less pressure to produce, to perform, or to be anything other than present. I find myself craving simple comforts: warmth, rest, slow mornings, time with loved ones, and a steady cup of tea or coffee held between my hands. Winter asks very little of me, and in return, it offers space to listen inward.
This season is also when I feel most drawn to my shadow self—the quieter parts of me that don’t usually get much air. Winter feels like permission to look honestly at what I’ve tucked away with curiosity and care. The darkness outside mirrors an inner landscape that’s easier to access now, when the world itself has softened and turned inward. There’s something grounding about letting these reflections unfold slowly, without needing resolution or answers right away.
These are the prompts I’ll be journaling with this week. If you’re joining me, take a moment to get comfortable. Make yourself a warm drink, settle into a quiet space, and move through these questions at your own pace. There’s no need to push yourself or force depth—explore only what feels right in this moment. You can return to the rest another time, or not at all. This is meant to be a safe, personal space for reflection.
- Name a fear you carry that feels like a long winter. Where did it begin?
- When did you last feel unseen? Describe that moment and how your body responded.
- Which part of yourself do you keep tucked away like a secret in snow? Why?
- Write a brief letter to the version of you who first felt abandoned.
- What’s a boundary you never set but wanted to? What stopped you?
- Recall a chilly memory that still tightens your chest. What lesson might be hidden there?
- When you freeze in decision-making, what self-limiting belief is quietly whispering “don’t”?
Your journal doesn’t need to look a certain way to be meaningful. It can be a simple text file on your phone, a well-worn notebook, or something brand new that feels inviting to open. What matters most is honesty and gentleness—letting the words arrive when they’re ready, and trusting that even small reflections have value in this slower season.that you dedicate specifically to shadow work journaling. There is no right or wrong way, there is no need for perfection here just your presence and commitment to explore the shadow you.
