Walking Out of Winter and into Spring
As I venture into this blog, the promise of spring in the form of a south wind is breathing bluster all over this April day. Hallelujah. In the Green Mountain State we put a lot of pressure on April to perform – the expectation directly in proportion to how awful the winter experience may have been for us. This one, for me, was a humdinger. It was neither snow nor cold that brought me down, I expect that out of the first three months of the year. It was the darkness, which seemed endless. Like our own version of polar night, the dark mornings turned into dark afternoons, and then into early, endless evenings.
This was my first winter of full retirement. I retired from public education in June of 2021 and moved right into a part time role as the Executive Director of a state-level curriculum organization. I had little room for negative headspace, and winter flew by as it had all 42 years of working in education, the rhythm of the seasons propelling the work of a school year. My husband, who retired earlier than me to start his own business, then fully retired when a heart attack weaseled its way into his work day, had warned me that I had to have a plan or I’d be in trouble after the holidays. Phhttt, I thought. I would be just fine. I was still on the holiday high, during which I pranced through the days with a giddy, childlike euphoria, experiencing the magic of the season from the day after Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day. Yup, all good, I told him. Hobbies? I already do Morning Pages faithfully every single day. I attend a writing workshop a few times a month. I read books. I’m in a book group for Pete’s sake! I. will. be. just. fine. Reader, I was not fine.
As I said, January was dark, practically sunless. February was, well, February. I’ve never had any expectations for February. I just let it be what it wants to be. It, too, wanted to be dark for too many days (although it looked for a while like it would be much brighter – but that had a short life). Then March, the home stretch, almost over, right? Nope. More dark, cloudy, gloomy days. More snow.
With each month, I clung to a few things that were saving my life. During January, I tried to notice the growing light at the end of each day. I wasn’t too successful at that; to me, it was imperceptible. So I looked for light in other places, and was much more successful. One was in Mary Pipher’s A Life In Light: Meditations on Impermanence. The other was in my light therapy box. Both helped immensely. In February it was reading (you can see my books by month on my Instagram Account or on Goodreads), more Mary Pipher, lots of reading on women aging, a few pop-up streams of melting snow, and British television. And it was by the end February I thought, now is the time for my own blog. That will save me! But then March brought more cold, more dark skies, more snow, and writer’s block.
So how did I actually get here? How did I get to this page, to this place in April? How did I go from so not fine to bearable to the thing with feathers?
It was walking that pulled me through.
During those dark three months, I walked. Some days I walked alone. I ruminated, I planned, I wrote hundreds of first sentences for the yet to materialize blog posts. Sometimes I walked with a friend. Sometimes I walked on the treadmill. But I walked every day, from 2 to 4 miles. In walking to get away from my winter self, I found that “hope springs eternal” gal I was looking for. And before I knew it, I had walked into April.
“Walking brings me back to myself.”
So here I am. I’ve turned the corner yet again. What have I learned about myself this winter? Well, I have learned that my husband, who knows me better than anyone, was right. I am a person who believes I am enough. But this winter, I did not plan for “enough.” It won’t be long before I am doing the same giddy dance into the late spring and summer months, the gorgeous autumn, then onto the holidays…and will I remember what I need to do for the months of January, February, and March? Join me here, stay with me if you can, and we’ll figure it out together when the time comes. But for now, I’m going to live fully and enjoy The Precious Days of spring.
I’d love to know what you do to get through the winter months if they are difficult for you or what you love most about spring. Drop me a comment along with any ideas for topics you’d like to see explored here on the blog.
