Molly writes...
Here in the northeastern part of the United States we are just now settling into the New England winter. In November and December the weather starts to change but the chilly air and the early snowfall is still romanticized with the excitement of the Holidays and blurred by the energy of the solstice. And at that point most of us are still enamored by the newness of the changing seasons.
Once the first of the year comes and goes, the festive decorations get packed up, the fanciful lights are put away, the once-welcomed chill has turned into just plain cold, and daylight seems like an endangered species. It is this time of year that people break out the winter whine. I am not talking about the fermented stuff. I am talking about the winter doldrums, the blahs, the “why do I live here in January” kind of whine.
Many people succumb to this type of seasonal depression. It is after all a very real thing. I, too, see it coming and for years around this time of year would settle in to my own winter whine and wallow into obsessing about when the first signs of spring would come.
A few years back as I was breaking out my own annual winter whine, and settling into the routine of trying to wish the winter away, when I was stopped in my tracks with a thought.
I was thinking about my mom and how she always enthusiastically talks about loving to do the dishes. My whole life she has practically shouted from the roof tops how much she enjoys this often-hated chore. Once I became an adult she let me in on her secret. She told me that she didn’t always love doing dishes. At some point she realized that as a mother and a homemaker you spend a good chunk of your life doing dishes so she decided that she would figure out a way to enjoy that time. And from that point on, set out to tell everyone including herself about her love of doing dishes. To this day she is adamant about being the first to volunteer to clear the table, load the dishwasher and scrub the pans and continues to passionately tell friends and family about her love any chance she gets.
Since digging into a Zentangle practice, I find its philosophies trickling into my everyday life. I have learned that there is beauty to be found almost everywhere. I realized why the dish story came into my thoughts: In the midst of my annual winter whine I was getting caught up in wishing away actual months of my life every year. Winter lasts 3 sometimes 4 months in New England and I was wishing it away every year. Time where there truly is potential for beautiful moments. I thought to myself, if I am going to live here, I am going to have to learn to embrace this frozen time of year. After all one quarter of my life has been lived in winter.
So I took a moment and began to think about some of the things I love about winter in New England. I started with the small things like there are no mosquitos and no humidity. And then moved to things like the smell and warmth of a wood stove, hot tea with friends, cooking a stew all day, the brightness of the sun reflecting on the snow, snuggling in a fuzzy blanket, and a refreshing deep breath in the crisp cold air. Once I decided I was only going to focus on the things I loved about winter, I seemed to discover more. Lately I think about the time that January, February and March offers me. While the rest of the year seems to be filled with endless activity, this chilly time seems to slow things down. There seems to more time to spend wallowing in one Zentangle tile for hours, picking up that project you had been meaning to finish, or finally watching that movie you had been meaning to watch. Even work seems to offer a different pace and time to work on exciting projects. And then I think about the quiet of winter … the priceless quiet. All these amazing wonderful things that had been buried by my whine are now uncovered and fueled my new, found love for winter. Every time I feel myself sinking into some negative thought about winter I just say to myself, “I love winter.” And then force myself to think about one of those things on my list.
So I will not be indulging in any winter whine this winter … this weekend I will be looking forward to a long walk in the brisk air followed by relaxing by the warm fire with some hot tea, and my Zentangle supplies.
I leave you with this quote … that coincidently is inscribed on the wall above my mothers kitchen sink.
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”
- Albert Camus
You could always try talking to them(now, now), and who knows some might even yield new ideas for zentangle patterns.
Renee Schaeren on
marlene pechura on
now that I am retired I think about Mother Nature’s cycle. The little plants, seeds, and bulbs sleeping soundly in the deep dark rich soil. They need the snow to keep them hydrated until the get the call to wake up and grow.
Then we see the magic of Mother Nature,the buds on trees and the shoots of new flowers. Suddenly we
see the magic of Spring!
Barbara Fritz-Elliott on
Tisha Cabral on
We are now experiencing ‘real’ winter with the temperatures dipping to -21C and with windchill factor -29C. Today it is snowing but sunny. I enjoy winter and laugh at folks who complain about it especially living in this part of the world in the winter! I grew up in Montreal so I am used to the winters. But I do not like the crazy drivers who still drive as if it was summer. 4 snowtires on our vehicle also help navigate the roads.
Tangling has kept me sane in so many ways especially dealing with my husband’s illness. I draw Zendalas and give them as thank you gifts. Everyone who has received one loves their gift.
Thank you so much ! HCS~~CZT, 2014.
H.Carol Schmidt on
I spent the morning with my Soul Circle and we discussed exactly what you wrote here. One of my ah-ha moments was to appreciate the structure and the beauty of the trees and the homes of wildlife that is usually hidden by the foliage. Thank you
Terri Delaune on
Ah yes, the power of gratitude! I love this story Molly, and how you decided to choose a new perspective on winter, an attitude of gratitude! That is one of the many things I love about Zentangle Method, that in the beginning and the end of the process, there is gratitude and appreciation. The culture tends to teach only striving and not enough, but what a transformative gift it is to look for and be grateful for the plethora of gifts and blessings we have in our lives. And they do multiply when acknowledged, that is the way of things.
Jan on
A wonderful post Molly. As a writer I have long loved observing the differences that each season brings – the challenges in each too. The monthly changes help me to feel and better notice my passage through the year, and through my life. This year I’m planning to try to tangle tiles relating to the season I’m in. Blacks and whites and greys are looking like a comfortable place to start on these low lit January days.
Jem Miller on
A great uplifting post Molly!! Thank you! It came at the perfect time because it is freezing in Anchorage and I’m disliking the winters in Alaska more and more! Your mom is so smart. A perfect quote when it is a cold winter, but the hands are nice and warm, soaking in hot soapy water! Thanks and a happy New Year to all of you at Zentangle Headquarters! <3
Donna Jacobson, CZT on
Co-creation at its best! Embracing your whines. Never let any whine distinguish the sun in your heart. Thank you for the inspiration. Namasté.
Karin Godyns, CZT Belgium on
Maria Vennekens on
Cathrine on
Promise Smithson on
Devin RYDER on
Shawna Oertley on
Jan England on
Lianne on
Ria Matheussen on
Kat Van Rooyen on
Sue Leslie on
Kim Kohler on
Kim on
But really I’ve never really had an issue with the colder weather. I do worry about everyone traveling thru the snow, but otherwise I welcome the chance to sit with the fireplace on, reading, knitting or tangling.
May everyone find a sense of peace and contentment this winter 2019.
Lesley Goldberg on
Carol Parry on
Mary Illana Perrin on