Wintering: It Doesn't Have to Stay This Way

**Go with me here. It was 12/21/22 when I began writing this–then covid struck me down, then Christmas, then travel, then blah blah blah**

Ah, yes. Here we are at the winter solstice. The calendared appearance of the shortest day of the year. The almanac declares it so. And while true it’s the day with the shortest amount of daylight, I attest that it feels like the longest and will call it what it is. Awful.

My apologies to the baby Jesus.

A plenitude of beautiful and hopeful words have been written through the ages about this particular season…the waiting in the dark, the yearning for light, the necessary dormancy of creation that gives way to abundant life in spring. As much as I love and treasure such words, historically they’ve fallen flat in my life. An unshakeable lethargy brought on by the lurking winter shadows devours me. By March I’m over it and need some Vitamin D, a tan, and an updated Prozac prescription. 

But each day gets just a little bit lighter, they say.

Listen.

The awareness that each 24 hour period between now and June provides incrementally more sunlight does little to impact my disposition about the current tilt of the Earth. The anticipation of dark, cold days makes me anxious, and I prepare to white knuckle it through (at least) the first quarter of the new year. People who still want snow come March? We can’t be friends. Not until our cherry tree is full of flowers can I take a breath and embrace the world around me.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) anyone?

Winter averse anyone?

I know I’m not alone with these feelings. Statistics tell me so. 

But something seems different this year. I seem different.

I suppose the timing of this post was meant to be because, had I finished it when I intended, it would’ve taken a completely different tone. On December 21, I was typing away while mentally prepping myself for the dreaded bleak days ahead. I was looking forward to our upcoming Christmas activities, but I knew as soon as Christmas Day hit, the downward spiral would begin. My point of the post was going to be to discuss SAD and ways to get through it (i.e. how I’ve labored my way through in the past). That’s when I felt someone giving me a good shake. Scary since I was home alone. I was startled enough to take a step back and consider my message. What I had to say wasn’t bad or wrong…it would probably even be helpful, but what I realized was that I was writing from an old script. I was plagiarizing from my old playbook. 

In what felt like a drastic move, I hired a life coach in October to help me gain clarity on what the next phase of my life would look like. To learn how to clearly set out on a path that I knew was for me. While I did receive that clarity, it was not by the means I expected. I was taught tools to change how I exist in the world. Tools to recognize my thinking so that I could change how I feel so that I could change my actions…because we act on how we feel which is based on what we think. I learned how to get over my particular stall out behaviors which masquerade as legitimate reasons and needs.  So simple, yet so complex. These are not revolutionary ideas (they’re actually proven brain science) but I was at a loss for how to implement them. I love to think about things, I’m just a bit doing-repressed (enneagram 5 anyone?). With diligence and more than a few curse words, I’ve made progress and can actually feel the difference in my body.  Bizarrely enough, our thinking is habitual and if we don’t pay attention and know how to change it, our thoughts will literally run (possibly ruin) our lives. 

So, here’s what I have to proclaim to you today. I choose to no longer accept the lie that winter has to be bad and difficult. It doesn’t have to be my favorite, but it can certainly exist as a friend, an encourager, and teacher. My goal is to no longer pine for an eternal spring but to embrace what winter has to offer while looking forward with joy to the light up ahead.

This is not to say I’ll stop taking my prescription for depression (did that once, won’t be doing it again anytime soon) but what I will do is pursue living in the current moment-not looking backward or forward but just doing the next right thing. I will continue (uh, or begin again) to exercise my body and stay hydrated. I will continue to surround myself with encouragers and stay connected with people while also recognizing when I need to withdraw to refresh (not to hide). I choose to no longer dread the lingering dark days but instead seek to understand what is available to me now that isn’t in the months I consider my favorites.  

Serendipitously, a book arrived on January 3 that I forgot I ordered (shocking)... In this new favorite of mine, Wintering: The Power of Retreat in Difficult Times, Katherine May writes, the tree “is far from dead. It is in fact the life and soul of the wood. It’s just getting on with it quietly. It will not burst into life in the spring. It will just put on a new coat and face the world again.” (p.70)

I choose to no longer just endure my existence. Just as the tree lives in winter, I shall get on with life quietly and diligently and look forward with fun anticipation to my new spring coat!  Now, that I can do ;-)

For more info on my lifecoach, https://www.kellysummersett.com/

Also, I rediscovered Nichole Nordeman’s song Every Season and I’ve had it on repeat. You may like it as well. Hugs