Snow Days Are Quietly Exhausting
I am finally sitting down (actually laying down on my couch) exhausted, and it’s 5:30 pm on a Sunday evening. Today was a “snow day” here in NYC. And I’m noticing that this snow day has a way of wearing you out before anything even happens.
I’ve been anticipating this day since last week, when the weatherpeople on my local news started predicting what was to come. I found myself checking the forecast, wondering how much would stick, thinking about schedules and supplies. It wasn’t stressful exactly, just mentally tiring. Even good disruptions, like a snowfall, take energy. Who can relate?
When the snow finally came, the pace of the day changed in a way that felt both welcome and a little disorienting. We walked through the park, which looked magical under a layer of snow. People of all ages were out sledding. Some were even skiing and snowboarding. Most were clearly trying to take advantage of what Mother Nature gave us. And then there were others (like me!) standing around with hot chocolate, watching and chatting. I noticed that no one seemed in a hurry.
Being outside felt good. It was also grounding in a simple way. The cold made us more aware of our bodies, when our fingers needed hand warmers, and when it was time to head home, like when warmth started to sound better than one more lap around the park.
Back at home, the day naturally turned inward. I baked muffins and made chili and soup. Snow days tend to shift how and why we eat. We wanted warm food, food that felt filling and familiar. We ate when we were hungry and stopped when we were full, without much thought beyond that.
That’s one of the reasons snow days pair so naturally with intuitive eating. They remove some of the usual structure and force us to respond instead of plan. Cold weather, movement, and being home all day change our needs, and intuitive eating gives us permission to adjust without judgment. Wanting more substantial meals or snacks on a day like this isn’t emotional or indulgent, it’s practical.
Snow days also highlight intuitive living in small ways. Plans get canceled. Expectations soften. The day becomes about responding to what’s happening rather than sticking to what was supposed to happen. We move our bodies because it feels good, rest when we’re tired, and let the day unfold without trying to optimize it.
By the end of the day, we were tired. Not overwhelmed, just peaceful. Today's snow day was a simple reminder that slowing down, listening to your body, and meeting your basic needs is enough.
And if snow days, or life in general, feel more draining than grounding, you don’t have to carry it alone. Therapy can be a place to slow down, feel supported, and reconnect with what you need. I’m here if you’d like to reach out. Contact me at rachel@livehealthynyc.com