Do not fight the old man

I am under the winter spell, as much as I swore to avoid it this year. It seems today when I can adventure outside, how late I can sleep in, and what ends up on my plate. I am not working with winter, I am trying to survive it. The bitter cold has found its way into my bones, and they ache with longing for a warm breeze through my wet hair. The wind has taken the breath from my lungs and left me gasping for anything that can return my spark. I remind myself that a day like today is only good for caramelizing onions, and hiding. I look into the eyes of those around me and notice they too are taking a beating from the season, everyone looks heavy, and weak. Tonight, the forecast warns of temperatures as low as 10 degrees. There is this presence in my lower back, something that feels like a boulder, wedging itself deep against my spine, forcing my ribs to slump over and my shoulders to round. Even my blankets feel tired and worn through, the folding and the unfolding ages a quilt past its soft stage as it thins. Just like aging skin, something that old can tear easily and must be considered delicate now. My spirit is brittle like the trees that drop their branches, they shatter against the pavement with whipping sounds that are startling and remind me of pain. I say all of this to remind you that the struggle is collective. As much as we may try to avoid the punch of January, to outsmart it or to conquer it, our bodies seem to power down to conserve. We do have 2 choices, I believe. The first choice is to honor the season with prioritizing rest, to sway in the benefits of surrender, to trust in the process of hibernation, to keep its ancient secrets revealed to you in the dark. Intention for these days will wave your lack for productivity, and your mission for stillness and quiet will honor you in return. The second choice is to rebel, to adorn yourself in fur and jewels and paint the bars and theaters with your finest efforts in resistance. Whatever that quest means for you, a chance to look old man winter in the face and say to him “not now sir, I will not be moved against my plot for today.” If you only muster the courage to battle the cold until YOU decide it’s time to shiver, stand up to that little voice that says to run inside and instead remind yourself you are stronger than the wind. Our ancestors instilled in us a stubbornness to the elements, they had little choice in order to survive but we have the luxuries of modern comforts. Maybe we could avenge their efforts by channeling the spirits of those who had to endure an unforgiving winter by confronting it ourselves. Maybe a portal to the past would open, and our bodies could take on the grit of those who were once on the Oregon trail. We can honor nature, but we can also challenge it. The freedom to choose between rest and resistance is a lucky endeavor, whatever we choose we must only avoid fighting it. The bleak and bitter January is inevitable but never permanent. Soon the color shall run back into our complexion as the frost melts and waters run again. Until then, hold steady mate.

Thank you for reading and as always please reach out, I DO love to chat!

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