Remembering the Old Ways: Staying Warm

Warmth is more than comfort—it’s survival.

But it’s also memory. A fire lit in the body. A sense of safety that runs deeper than logic.

In the old ways, staying warm wasn’t about central heating or synthetic gear. It was a layered knowledge passed down in movement, in rhythm, in what to wear, when to rest, what to burn, and how to keep heat close to the skin.

To stay warm is to listen. To move when needed. To be still when it’s time. To notice where your body loses heat, and how to keep it in.

This is remembering how to stay alive—not just in emergency, but in everyday cold. To keep the fire going, inside and out.

Warmth Starts in the Core

The body loses heat from five places: the head, hands, feet, lungs, and surface skin. If your core gets cold, blood pulls back from the limbs to protect vital organs. That’s when fingers go numb, thinking gets foggy, and cold becomes dangerous.

To stay warm, protect your core.

Wrap your belly, kidneys, spine, and chest in dry, insulated layers.

Keep moving—not in panic, but in rhythm. Movement generates warmth. Stillness conserves it. Learn to dance between the two.

Layered Clothing: Old Wisdom, Not Fashion

Layers trap heat. Wool and natural fibres breathe better and keep you warm even when damp. Synthetic fabrics can insulate but often trap sweat, which cools the body.

Start with:

A base layer: soft, breathable—like merino wool or well-worn cotton
A mid-layer: insulation—fleece, wool jumper, thick shirt
An outer layer: wind and rain protection—waxed cotton, oilskin, or waterproofs

Always cover your head. A scarf around your neck or face makes a huge difference.

Hands can be wrapped in cloth or old socks if gloves are lost.

Feet should stay dry. Wet socks and boots will drain heat quickly. Carry spares. Warm them by the fire. Rotate them in your bag if travelling.

Fire is a Blessing—but Not Your Only Option

If you can light a fire, do. Build it with care, feed it slowly, and use it not just for heat but for drying clothes, warming stones, boiling water, and lifting your spirit.

But if fire isn’t possible—if you’re walking, hiding, or it’s too wet to burn—warmth becomes something you build with body, material, and knowledge.

Try this:

Use insulation from the ground—dry leaves, pine needles, or bracken under your body stop heat loss into the earth
Fill a cloth or bottle with hot water and tuck it near your heart or between your thighs
Warm stones near the fire and place them in your bedding
Wrap yourself in natural materials—dry grass inside a jacket, moss between clothing layers, even bark as a windbreak
Keep moving—slow, steady walking creates internal heat without sweating
If you’re wet, get dry before you try to sleep—even if it means stripping off and layering with dry leaves or cloth

Making Shelter Warmer

Even the most basic shelter can hold heat if insulated well.

Add layers to walls with branches, bracken, or blankets.

Make the space smaller if you’re alone—heat escapes quickly in wide spaces.

Block wind at the entrance with your pack or an extra layer.

Keep your fire close, but not inside—smoke kills more than cold does. Use it wisely.

Eating and Drinking for Warmth

Warmth also comes from within.

Eat high-fat, high-energy foods when cold—nuts, oats, root vegetables, dried fruit, simple sugars
Warm drinks (even just boiled water) help the body regulate temperature
Avoid alcohol—it creates a false sense of warmth while actually lowering your core temp
Always drink enough water—even in cold weather, dehydration worsens the cold

Practise Before You Need It

Sleep out on a cold night. Learn what works. Try layering in new ways.

Test your kit. Notice where you feel cold first. Watch how long your fire burns.

Let yourself adapt in real time—not from panic, but from presence.

The more you practise, the more your body begins to trust the cold.

When You’ve Remembered Warmth

You’ll feel calm when the temperature drops.

You’ll wrap yourself with skill, not fear.

You’ll know how to build warmth from movement, breath, fire, food, and instinct.

You’ll stop dreading the cold and start listening to it.

And you’ll remember that warmth is not a luxury.

It is something we create.

Something we carry.

And something we pass on.