woof. Had to insert a photo of something sunny here because is it just me, or is this winter extra gloomy!?
Winter sneaks in with its cute first snows and holiday cheer… and then like an efficient lady of the night, she takes all of her charms with her and disappears without a backward glance, and you’re left wondering what you could have possibly been thinking was good about winter.
While I’ve never actually had this exact experience with a lady of the night, that’s my impression coming out of a relatively mild polar vortex this last week, and I must say, I’ve got mixed feelings.
I still had to go into work because Omaha is a pretty mild midwestern state and our weather emergencies often take a centimeter of snow as opposed to blatantly freezing temperatures, so I didn’t really feel like I can complain from a technical standpoint. (case-in-point: it was 50 degrees here yesterday. People were in shorts. I rest my case.)
Regardless, winter’s sting is more about the moody cloudy season that settles into your soul. I’m pretty sure it could look like a snowglobe and something about the season of hibernation is difficult to overcome, but I think I’ve figured it out: in the winter, you’re left with your own thoughts. There are so few distractions (comparatively) and it really makes to take time to stop and think. Like, a lot.
And I do not enjoy it. Well, that is to say, I didn’t enjoy it. Well, I’m getting used to it, okay? At first, it was weird. I’ve been so busy the last few years that I didn’t have time to settle in with my thoughts and get cozy. It was a cycle of working hard (multiple jobs because, workaholic), playing hard (too many glasses of wine and overpriced dinners), and burning out to a mindless weekend of doing literally nothing from my couch for the sandwich days that start and end our weeks.
But this year, life is a little quieter. We’re out of the wedding season that encompasses your entire 20’s and early 30’s, my progress towards grad school is much more sustainable (1 class a term vs 4 in an accelerated month [gag]) and that leaves me at home, scrolling Instagram, fueling my wanderlust and mostly just somewhat at a loss for how to sit still and rest. So, as I navigate the foreign waters back toward a more balanced life, tell me, how do you rest?
I’ll go first: It sounds counter-productive but I’ve been indulging in British murder mysteries from the ’80s (Poirot, anyone?), taking a lot of hot baths with excessive Epsom salts, and re-working this blog within an inch of its life. Most of that is a way to coax my anxious brain to run at 45 mph vs the standard 100–well above the recommended limit– and I’d say that’s a decent start, right?