Wednesday, January 31, 2024
“And in the winter, I am underground. Home.”
Terry Tempest Williams
Winter used to be a menacing villain for me, so when friends and family, assuming I still feel this way, call to see if I’m doing okay, I’m able to tell them truly that I am. Mind you, I do not enjoy my shoulders hunched up into my ears while braving blustery winds, but I have learned to appreciate the time indoors.
All the other seasons of the year clamor for attention. Spring is the time for rebirth. Planting new flowers and trees, while daylilies and tulips pop up from the earth to show off their color as if they’re in spring’s fashion show! Summer brings the smell of fresh-cut grass, while sprinklers rhythmically pulsate water onto the yards. Bar-b-qs and outdoor concerts fill our calendars. Before too long, autumn’s leaves need to be raked as everyone holds onto the last days of outdoor gatherings. Winter, on the other hand, ushers in something entirely different.
I rise early in all the other seasons because there is always so much to do. However, in winter, I feel like a seed or a bulb snuggled deeply in the ground. As the soil does to the seedlings, Old Man Winter beckons me to stay inside, inviting rest and encouraging me to nurture my body and soul before it is time to bloom once more.
Instead, I linger over an extra cup of coffee, while gazing longingly at my nightstand where a mound of books patiently await. I contemplate organizing my house from the post-holiday merriment, maybe creating a new file for the impending tax season, or perhaps revising some school work for the remainder of the year. Of course there is always a list of to-dos around the house as well. So many options as I nestle indoors on these cold wintery days.
Just as the seasons are guaranteed to change, so are we as we go through our grieving. “Life meanders like a path through the woods," author Katherine May writes. “We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us.” May further states that, “given time, they will grow again.” Give yourself time.
Grief runs parallel to the seasons. Where there once stood the people we loved, they are now our memories. Love and relationships bloomed, they were nurtured, and then fell away. During our “wintering” time for grieving, take the time to nourish and heal after your losses. Rest, restore, and prepare to bloom.
The topography will be different, but like nature, we will adapt and discover our vibrancy…in time.