Winter Blues Prescription
March 1, 2020
You know what my favorite winter wonderland is?
Florida.
Although this year, even a trip to Florida was spent wrapped in a towel in 35 degree weather.
A recent trip to Texas saw actual snow, paralyzing a place that isn’t ready for rain, let alone ice.
Winter is everywhere — at least everywhere I am. I feel like that character from Peanuts, Pig Pen, who was always trailed by a cloud of dirt. Follow me and I’ll find the snow, even in the desert.
We visited Las Vegas in December, and we brought snow with us as we landed.
Right about this time of year I often feel stuck in the dog days of winter (that term shouldn’t be reserved only for summer).
You know those days: after New Year’s, after Valentine’s Day, when we have no holidays to look forward to except for St. Patrick’s Day, but that doesn’t count here because that’s when people everywhere else are starting to celebrate spring but it’s still winter here?
And this year — a leap year — we have a whole extra day to enjoy. But it’s in winter.
This year, rather than descend into my usual winter blues, I’m going to double down on those things that bring sunshine and warmth into my life even when there’s none outside my window.
1. Be Grateful. I try to spend time paying attention to those things that I’m grateful for, not just for the big things but the small ones. I’ve found that taking the time to notice small things that I’m grateful for provides perspective and a respite when I’m staring at the abyss in my mind or the darkness visible outside my window.
2. Buy long. I’m buying winter clothing for next year now. Everywhere I turn, there’s some sort of ad for discounted winter coats. I’m investing in next year now, so I’ll welcome next winter with a brand new half-off coat. If you do that, it also means you can donate your old coat to someone in need right now.
3. Embrace it. Just go outside. Winter sports aren’t my thing, so I’ll take a walk in the woods, on the snowy canal, along the lakeshore or now, in our new downtown location, up the block.
4. Curate it. Find warmth where creativity thrives, like Geva, where the music of the musical “Once” is currently delighting audiences; or the Memorial Art Gallery, where in the middle of a snowstorm I was able to catch the magic of the art of Alphonse Mucha; or the annual Dutch Connection tulips that take over the George Eastman Museum.
5. Chop things. As in, ingredients. I make soup, chili or stew – anything that takes a long time to make and ends up warming your insides for the next few days.
6. Celebrate. Have your friends over to eat that soup, chili or stew because you know you’ve made too much. Make up your own holiday and celebrate the warmth of friendship.
The other day, when we had a total tease of 50-degree weather and lots of sunshine, I spied a little flower peeking through the dirt surrounded by leftover snow. Now, I know that flower isn’t going to make it because of the snow and cold still to come, but it felt so hopeful that it pushed its way up to see what was happening.
And that’s when I realized that even when I’m feeling the darkest of winter blues, winter is actually the season of hope. Because we have winter, we can truly understand the meaning of hope: the thing that you hold onto during the darkest of times. It’s the thing that provides a reason to push through, that shines the light towards the inevitable. Spring. Eventually.
As first published in the Democrat + Chronicle and on the USA Today Network