Category: Spirit

Hard Days of Winter

“Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our lives as they exist.” – Natalie Goldberg

These are my hard days. January has always been a long month with some recurring seasonal depression. The month is a minefield of sentimental dates: the date of my mother’s passing on January 14 and her birthday January 23; the January 25 birthday of my sister who passed 12 years ago; and the anniversary of the loss of a pet. And we all have things we’re struggling with that we don’t share. 

Also, it’s been cold. Really cold. So cold they closed the schools. So cold you could get frostbite in 10-30 minutes. Negative temperatures and wind chills. I’m a southerner living in rural southeast Wisconsin. I’ve generally had a great attitude about winter, but this year the extreme temperatures are making the hard days harder. 

To get I’ve pulled out all my tricks, tools and acts of radical self-care. Here’s what’s currently helping me: 

The days are getting longer and the hard days end with my own birthday on January 29. I always enjoy my birthday and ignore all the negativity about aging. It’s a privilege I celebrate with a holy yes.

Really start living

“At some point in your life, if you’re lucky, you throw practicality to the wind and really start living.”  Erma Bombeck

What would it look like to throw what seems like “practicality” to the wind in your life? Have you already done that in some ways? Try writing more than one scenario. You have options! Reviewing the possibilities can also lead to appreciating the practical in your life.

The Melodramatic Tree

On a rural road in Southeastern Wisconsin, the Melodramatic Tree sits in front of an idyllic setting of farmland: freshly plowed and planted fields, houses, barns and silos nearby and on the horizon. But the Melodramatic Tree looks burnt black, as if it caught fire, but was put out before it was demolished. And, now, it is forever frozen in a sprawling, gasping reach to the sides and above. The contrast is stark against the reds, greens and blues of nature behind it.

The tree seems to be overreacting to something, and really, who isn’t? Or are we reacting appropriately? It certainly seems justified to splay and sprawl our limbs in outrage over the current state of our world, politics, the economy, the climate or many other issues.

It’s an appropriate response to a wacky, wacky world.

Sometimes the Melodramatic Tree is me. My mind hopping like a skipped stone making ripples, leaving them behind to move onto the next thing.

Sometimes I tease, “What happened to you, emo tree?” And on gorgeous days, I’ll think, “Oh, simmer down, Mel!”

The stories and details have spun in my head and on calls with friends. The nickname is Mel. It is not the giving tree which it calls it the passive aggressive codependent shaming tree. (Yep, I said it.)

I’ve incorporated “Don’t be a Melodramatic Tree about it!” into self-talk and jokes with friends. As in, “Am I being a melodramatic tree about this, and maybe it really isn’t a big deal?”

Maybe the tree is perfectly fine and happy. I’m reminded of Hanna Waddingham’s trick to get over performance anxiety. Before going on stage she makes herself really big – arms and legs spread wide with fingers reaching out, and her face in a big growl. And I notice how big, strong, powerful, and defiant the tree is, and remember it takes courage to take up space. And I say, “Thanks for the encouragement, I’ll stand strong today, too.”

It feels like the Melodramatic tree has more to say. And if not, that’s okay, too. But most days I don’t think the tree is being melodramatic. Most days I drive by and just appreciate the tree and mumble, “Same, tree. Same.”