Winter blues

Jan 16, 2022

The other day, I was buzzing around my apartment as if electrically charged. I would start a task, become distracted, and return to said task some time later only to realize I’d never finished it. This happened for a couple hours, which seems like a long time, but I had so much angsty energy and nowhere to put it that the passage of time was hardly a factor. The thing that finally pulled me out of this frenzied stupor was the realization that I’d never finished making my bed. I mean, how distracted does one have to be to walk away in the middle of something that realistically takes 60 seconds? The answer is, pretty distracted.

In an attempt to settle down, I put on some layers, grabbed my coffee, and headed to the park. A bench bathed in sunlight beckoned me to its worn wooden seat and I headed over. I told myself I would sit there in the sun until I finished my coffee and then I would go home. I needed to do one task (that wasn’t really a task) without being pulled to do anything else.

I made myself comfortable, cradled in this seat I’d sat in many times before, and listened to the birds as they babbled from the branches overhead. Everything slowed down: my heartbeat, my racing thoughts, my fidgeting fingers. I breathed in the fresh air and calmly locked my eyes on the grass, mesmerized by its resilience to stay green in the midst of this winter weather.

I took my time sipping my coffee, meditating on nature’s ability to make me feel at peace. Just by being in it and allowing myself to connect with it—using as many senses as I could—brought me back to center. The sun forced (for my own good) my eyes to close as it shone brightly in my face, letting me feel an even deeper sense of peace.