When there's snow on the ground (365/271)
Originally uploaded by JenniPenni
There is something secretly delicious about being snowed in.
There is no urgency for me in this snow storm. I have slowed my pace so much so, that I am practically in retrograde. Some parts of my day have simply been spent sitting on the overstuffed chair in my livingroom, quietly reading, my dog on my lap as we listen to the wind howl and watch the snow blow and drift. To be seated in a cozy, warm space and have a view of this winter wonderland is like having great comfort and shelter in the midst of nature's fury.
I have generally, for the better part of my adult life, had a disdain for the snow and all things cold and icy. As a young girl, however, this was not the case. On a day like today, I couldn't wait to get my snow suit and boots on and drag my sled to the top of the hill so I could be the first one to leave tracks and to enjoy the quiet yet thrilling ride before the neighborhood kids converged on this coveted sledding spot. I didn't like to share what I considered "my hill" with the other kids. It would suddenly get loud and there'd be a waiting line to go down and the older boys would show off by standing on their sleds while holding the ropes. It interrupted my snowy peace. I realize now that this was one of the few experiences in my childhood which gave me respite from the turbulence in my home. Being the only soul out in the morning after a heavy snow was pure heaven. I loved the stillness and the fact that I could hear my boots making crunchy sounds as I left a path of little bootprints to mark my territory.
When I outgrew sledding, I developed an interest in skiing. My first boyfriend was an avid skier and he took me on the Pocono slopes with his family where I practiced just keeping my balance on the beginner hill. As I mastered the skills of weaving and jumps and crossing the skis to come to a stop, I loved the exhilaration of sailing down the mountain.
All of this came to a screeching halt when I began to drink. I viewed snow as a nuisance and a challenging deterrent in readily accessing booze and getting to the bar. If I prepared for a snow storm by stocking up on an ample supply of liquor, then it became something that allowed me to isolate and stay holed up inside, drinking myself into oblivion. I also didn't like the cold of winter because I couldn't maintain beer in my car, as the cans would freeze up. I am aware too that being stuck inside was a trigger for my panic attacks, like a feeling of claustrophobia.
After I stopped drinking, I continued to view snow as a pain in the ass. It required shoveling, digging my car out and having my fingers and toes go numb. More so, I realize that my energy and mood shifts during winter. I don't know if I would necessarily say that I experience seasonal affective disorder, yet I do know that the absence of warmth, long nights, colorful foliage does impact me.
When I was with my ex and her abuse of substances picked up, winter days of being stuck inside with her felt like an eternity. She would spend countless hours back and forth between the den engrossed in TV and the basement, where she smoked cigarettes, pot and drank from what she thought was her secret stash of beer in the fridge down there, which we never used. My hypervigilance found me monitoring that fridge and the number of beers that disappeared daily. During snow storms with her I felt completely trapped. Suffocated. Not to mention that there was absolutely no intimate connection between us during the last few years of our relationship, so we basically co-existed in the same physical space and there was not much else. Those last few winters felt so bleak.
This past year, as I began to ruminate and dread the approach of winter, I was reminded by someone I love deeply that this was a time of rest - for both people and nature - so that we were all rejuvenated when it was time to thaw and blossom in Spring. This helped me shift my perspective dramatically.
While I cannot claim to fully embrace and reclaim my former love of cold and snow, I have definitely done a 180 shift. It would be more accurate to say that, in working my AA program and being in life on life's terms and not imposing my will on situations, I can feel my acceptance of winter rather than resistance. The fact that I enjoyed my time this morning during the snowfall and even playing with dog in it as I swept off the porch is a big step for me.
I am also aware of this today: at the beginning of this year's winter season, I was just broaching how to bear my aloneness. It felt nearly intolerable. Now, almost a year later, I have relished my time here on my own. The loneliness and fear of abandonment have dissipated a great deal. I loved cooking a great meal, taking a leisurely steamy hot shower, being in my own company. I am no longer rejecting or fighting the reality of my life.
I feel a change of season within me. My winter is both needed and welcome.
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