The Last Days of Winter
A Ritual for Letting Go of What Winter Left Behind
I'm writing this to you on Wednesday morning — a hot mug of coffee at my side. It's quiet in the house, the particular quality of late-winter light filtered through the gray sky outside, making it feel like the world is holding its breath.
Because it kind of is.
We are two days out from the spring equinox. Two days from the moment when day and night finally balance each other out, when the wheel turns, when we officially cross out of the dark season and into whatever comes next.
But we’re not there yet. Right now, we’re on the threshold. And I think that’s worth pausing for.
“The dark season carried messages for you. It always does. The question now is: what will you take forward into the months ahead?”
Winter is a container. It holds us while we process, grieve, rest, and quietly rearrange ourselves in the dark. And sometimes we don’t even realize how much we’ve been carrying until the light starts coming back and we feel… heavy. Heavier than we expected to feel heading into spring.
I’ve been sitting with this myself. Looking back at this past winter, I can see all the places I tried to white-knuckle outcomes — in my health, in my work, in relationships. I’ve been doing a lot of releasing lately. A lot of softening. A lot of “okay, I’m setting this aside now.”
If any of that resonates, then today’s ritual is for you.
Wednesday’s Ritual: A Simple Releasing Practice
You don’t need anything elaborate for this simple ritual. Here’s all you’ll need:
• A candle
• A piece of paper and something to write with
• About twenty quiet minutes
That’s it. Here’s how to do it:
Light the candle. Take a deep breath, and let yourself settle into the warmth and illumination for a minute. No agenda. Just observe.
Write down what is heavy on your mind and spirit. On the sheet of paper, write everything this past winter has deposited inside you that you don't want to carry into spring. All the heaviness. Any sadness or trauma. The negative stories you’ve been telling yourself. Those things you’ve been dragging around like they're a permanent part of you. Other people's choices that don't belong to you. Write them down plainly. Don’t edit. This isn't about perfection.
Read it back once. Gently. Recognize the energies these feelings generate within you without owning them. Then say — out loud if you can — “I received what I needed from you. You can return to the dark now.”
Release the paper. Tear it into tiny pieces, then burn it safely, turn it to ash, and release that energy.
Sit with your candle a little longer. Notice what it feels like to have set those feelings aside. The sense of lightness — relief, however small — is spring already arriving in your body.
The equinox doesn’t ask for perfection — the world continues to turn, with or without our participation. But when we choose to turn with it, something in us honors the rhythm we were built for.
Two days from now, day and night will be equal. Balance — briefly — will be the law of the world.
You don’t have to earn that equilibrium. But you can prepare for it.
Sometimes struggling against what is doesn’t free us — it only keeps us stuck.
So today, light your candle. Release those negative energies. Step a little lighter toward Friday’s threshold.
I’ll be right here with mine.
If this message resonated with you… and you're feeling called to go a little deeper into what this threshold season is stirring up, I offer personal tarot readings on my website. Sometimes a reading is all it takes to find your center. Visit The Sanctuary at tracypartridgejohnson.com
With a candle lit and a window cracked for the returning light,
Tracy