Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
-Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Wintertime, January in particular, can be difficult time of year for many people. As temperatures plummet, daylight is diminished, and weather causes us to stay indoors, so too can our moods suffer a dampening of spirits. My husband is one of these people. Facing the dark days of post-holiday January, he needs to stay busy and engaged, looking to spring.

While I don’t naturally love winter, I appreciate the beginning of a new season, each with its own unique sights and smells. For me, early January is a time I look forward to; a built-in period of slowness, a time to reflect, and review the past year in retrospect. I like the idea of January offering a chance for a fresh start. As Anne Shirley said, tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it.

But later in the month, as winter persists long past its bloom has faded, I hit a slump and go looking for inspiration. Around late January to mid-February, I’m ready for a spring that is usually far away. Instead we have Valentine’s Day, that most dreaded of over-expectation setting holidays.

With a large winter storm on the horizon heralding winter is here to stay, what can be done, short of jetting off to Tahiti? While taking to the sea may not be a solution for all, and fewer still pursue whaling careers in present day, here are some ideas to take advantage of all this time of year has to offer. I know I’ll need to look back on this some dreary, cold, November in my soul day and remember there is life beyond February.

Winter Light
Why is it so hard to get out of bed on a dark, frozen morning? The thought of cold toes curling on bare floors makes me shiver, but many studies published in NIH and NEJM have shown that light, particularly morning exposure, has a positive chemical effect in our brains. Bright-light therapy is widely regarded as an effective treatment for seasonal affective disorder (SAD).

So, despite falling temperatures, I try to get outside. Once I’m there, I find I relish the stillness of cold mornings, shoes crunching on frosty grass, chimneys chuffing out warm smoke, lingering holiday decorations twinkling in the morning light. I feel I can breathe more deeply. After a couple of minutes, I’m ready to greet the day with renewed energy, and often find clarity of purpose in whatever problems carried over from the previous day.

Later, after the day has passed in a whirlwind of emails and calls, I like to take another couple of minutes at day’s end. Twilight has always been my favorite time of day. Something magical happens as shadows deepen, and blue slips into black, pausing for a moment on ethereal purple. In that instant, it feels as if the rules have been suspended and anything might happen. Dusk is different in the winter, more still, more mysterious, wild and untethered. It seems a built-in time for personal reflection, to gather thoughts of the day.

As a parent, it can be difficult to fit in, so we’ll often do it together, pausing in loading up at daycare to notice a flock of honking geese flying south for the winter, or having a romp around the garden in the gathering dusk. I value the calm these stolen moments create before the evening’s busy-ness of dinner, baths, and bedtime stories.

Winter Sports
I love the fact that winter pastimes are reserved only for this time of year, making them special, something to look forward to. And, although I didn’t discover this secret until adulthood, winter sports are a great way to pass the cold days of winter. The natural inclination is to huddle under blankets indoors, hibernating like a bear. Certainly for me this is true. But, there is something invigorating about exercise in cold air. The burn of frosty air in your lungs is both pleasant and painful, and makes me feel very much alive. And so, when the weather and babysitter stars align, we take to the slopes. It seems reckless to hurl yourself off the side of a mountain with pieces of plastic attached to your feet, yet so exhilarating: the stillness of the mountain, sun reflecting off snow, vistas spread wide in the distance as you whizz by, wind in your face.

Here I also channel my inner Norman Rockwell vision of the family happily gliding around a frozen lake. Ah, the power of an unfettered imagination; such disappointment it can breed. Still, even if the reality is that no one skates well, the kids are cold and crying, and I’ll likely have a goose egg size bruise on my bum from falling, spending time with the ones I love makes winter memories.

Winter Communion
Winter seems the ideal time to reconnect, slow down and enjoy life. I like the idea of giving myself permission to take a respite from the frenetic pace of the holidays, and have tea with a neighbor, or call an old friend. Hearing the voice of a friend you’ve not seen in a while makes time and distance disappear in the way no text message or email can.

Norwegians have a word, ‘koselig,’ which can be loosely translated as to make things cozy. They look forward to winter with enthusiasm with a host of seasonal events and family gatherings. There are festivals celebrating Aurora Borealis, or northern lights, an otherworldly phenomenon of green, purple, and red streaks lighting the polar night sky. Close-knit communities gather with fires, warm drinks, and cozy conversation. Shops light their windows with candles, and cafes leave woolen blankets for guests to use on outdoor chairs. The idea is to establish a sense of warmth, intimacy, and coziness.

Perhaps this difference in mindset goes a long way to re-framing how we think about winter, from something to be survived to something to be celebrated? I am excited to think about recreating this tradition state-side. Fireside Downton Abbey or Oscar viewing parties? Maybe s’mores are no longer for summertime? The possibilities are intriguing!

This winter, rather than shutting my eyes and hoping someone wakes me in spring, I’d like to try to embrace the season, taking advantage of this natural time of reflection and renewal, and seeking cozy communion with ones I love. I hope focusing on these things can help buoy me through winter, toward the bustling energy of spring. If all else fails, it helps me to think each day is actually getting a little bit longer, and closer to spring.