The Evolving Practice of Noticing

I grew up in North Carolina and I remember Novembers when it was warm enough to swim outside. Growing up, late fall for me was about playing soccer, watching soccer, friends, eating local apples, being outside when it isn’t HOT, and getting ready for the holidays. I don’t remember having any negative feelings about late fall at all.

Then in my mid twenties, I moved to West Virginia for graduate school.  It was the first time in my life I experienced a COLD winter. The first January I lived in WV, we set record lows. I called my mom one morning  on my way to coach soccer, truly amazed that my car thermometer went to -18! And honestly negative temperatures still feel a bit made up to me. 

That winter was hard for so many reasons. I was far from home and friends, it was cold and grey. I was wearing my warmest coat in October so for those of you that know cold winters…you know I was in trouble. Graduate school was unfamiliar and what made it hard were the intangibles outside of academic work. I look back and realize how unprepared I felt for all of these life transitions. But back then, I did not meet my struggles with empathy. What I conclude was: 

I hate the cold. I hate this place. There must be something wrong with me. 

Two of those statements are utterly untrue and the other one has softened. 

I still REALLY don’t like being cold. 

This year fall brought my 40th birthday. A milestone that so many have big feelings about. For me, I greeted it with a smile and deepening respect for the idea that I’m perfectly on time.  Instead of running or rushing it the way I had in my 20s and 30s, I am enjoying finding the pauses, the moments that don’t fit in, and a cadence of life drummed by others…especially my son.

There is a lot happening right now in our local communities, our country and the world. So much despair. So much uncertainty. So much fear and worry. It makes sense that we don’t feel well with so much going on that causes harm and cues that we aren’t safe. But this cold weather is not one of those things for me. In the face of injustice and rage and pain, I noticed something different this year as it got colder. And darker. And more grey. My mood still dropped some, my energy shifted, even my curiosity has taken on a different texture. 

BUT, there was also relief and maybe even gratitude for the predictability of it. In these uncertain times, parts of me welcomed this shift because it's familiar. I was able to have compassion for my 23 year old self who felt so alone in her first winter here. I felt less anxious waiting for the road construction traffic. I was able to relish in the joy of my daughter dancing out of the house during the first snow flurry and pausing to catch one on her tongue. I delighted in the fall light casting new rainbows in my office from the little window cling that hangs. 

Even the old narratives that say I can’t be happy here, the cold is terrible, why did I ever move here - these stories from earlier chapters of my life still show up. Almost like a little elf on a shelf, I know them well and they always come out this time of year. I just let them wander through me and notice that they no longer can find a place to burrow in. This time of year brings up many things. The practice is in allowing myself to notice more of the pieces. The icky, the joyous, the bleak, the cold, the sparkles. And that has ended up being the answer for my “winter blues”. The external changes create predictable responses in my energy and body but my conclusions about what it means are vastly different. 

Years ago I began to practice a winter search for color and brightness. And it’s become a daily habit or game.. Summer and spring are full of colors, warmth, flowers, new beginnings, but late fall and winter offer their own wonders when you’re open to finding them. 

And really this is neuroplasticity at its best. What you search for and focus on strengthens. When we train our brain to appreciate color and twinkly lights it “lights up” our brain. The pause to admire the joy and glee in others, we are creating and strengthening the neural pathways for those feelings or those connections in ourselves.

Research shows:

• small bursts of positive affect impact the salience network
• awe increases vagal tone
• noticing beauty enhances prefrontal regulation
• relational warmth counterbalances stress reactivity

Said more simply, when you focus on the good it gets easier to feel good. 

This is why tiny sparks of color—a blooming cactus, dancing rainbows, snowflakes fluttering, a child's belly laugh—carry disproportionate power. They give your brain new data, and the system reorganizes around what it’s paying attention to.

There’s a practice of noticing we teach as psychotherapists, supervisors, consultants, and educators. We invite clients and learners to slow down, to feel into edges, to witness themselves with curiosity. But we speak far less about the vulnerability of doing that work inside ourselves. For me it's looking directly at some of the darker shadows of myself. Of the times when I was most disconnected from my light and embracing that I wouldn’t be here without them. 

Because the shift into winter is an environmental cue and reminder of past heartache and loneliness. Even with work, there are imprints of those times still in us.
It brings reminders of the places where our bias still breathes.
It brings up parts of us that feel less inspired, less connected, less awake. That want to hibernate.

And yet, it also brings the parts of us still capable of awe.

As we move further into these shorter days, I want to offer this reflection:

Perhaps this season invites us to look for what’s present rather than what’s missing.
To look for spaces to share rather than spaces to debate.
To remember that resilience isn’t just endurance—it’s generosity.
A generosity toward ourselves, toward others, and toward our ever-shifting internal landscapes.

Winter asks us to soften, to recalibrate, to pay attention.
May we all find the colors that live along side the gray.

Written by Laurel Thornton

Garland, E. L., & Howard, M. O. (2010). Upward Spirals of Positive Emotions Counter Downward Spirals of Negativity: Insights from the Broaden-and-Build Theory and Affective Neuroscience. Review of General Psychology, 14(2), 111-123.

Monroy, M., et al. (2022). Awe as a Pathway to Mental and Physical Health. Frontiers in Psychology (PMC).