I have been thinking about this topic for some time now…well, since the end of summer. The dreaded end of summer. The dog days are over. The boys of summer gone. No more summer breeze to make me feel fine. Summer lovin had me a blast, but now you’re a thing of the past.
Sometime during the beginning of August I found myself annoyed at the mere thought of winter. Another cold, dark, winter. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t bear it. I just can’t do it. Another.cold.dark.winter. I barely survived the last one, there is no way I will make it through the next one. Last winter was tough. And not just physically because of the bitter cold tempertures. It was emotionally tough. Days upon days of grey skies compounded with days upon days of double-digit, sub-zero wind chills and let’s not forget snowfall after snowfall. And on the days when the sun would make an appearance, I felt like one of those glow in the dark action figures that needed to be held close to a light to be recharged so I could glow again. Week after week, month after month winter continued on in its cruel way as did my growing disdain for the season. Eventually after what seemed like eternity, spring arrived followed by summer and the madness of winter quietly faded into the background. But now, as fall begins its exit, I feel the madness of winter trying to creep back in.
For me, I think it starts the first week of August-those days when the lazy, laid-back summer attitude is hit smack in the face with the back to school chaos. And somewhere between the slow motion of summer and the hurried rush into fall, I start to feel anxious about winter. The dread begins to creep slowly into my mind, but I try to push it out with thoughts like, “It’s only August, and we still have September yet.” Which then turns into “It’s ok – it’s September and October isn’t that bad.” Then all of the sudden it becomes a topic of daily conversation at home or at work or with just about anyone you meet (funny how people always talk about the weather – perhaps another post for another day). The first chilly day. The first frost. Everyone moaning and groaning about the impending doom that is winter-myself included. But what I find intriguing is that the topic is discussed as if it were a surprise. Like we didn’t know the temperatures were going to drop and there would be frost on the ground and the days would get shorter. It happens every year. Winter shows up right on schedule, and for the most part, delivers what is expected. Winter hasn’t changed. It does the same thing every year. So perhaps my growing disdain for the season is my own doing? Especially since there was a time when I loved the season. Maybe I have changed. Maybe I take for granted what winter has to offer. Maybe if I am to “survive” another winter it’s up to me to find reasons to love winter again. To make good of it. To find light in its darkness. To find comfort in its cold.
So that’s the task which lies ahead. I am going to spend the next few days finding reasons to love winter again. I need to find reasons to love winter again. I want to find reasons to love winter again. For what it’s worth.