winter, grief, and the mirrors that are hard to look at

Firstly, happy gregorian new year! I know it’s been a while 😅 Before I share my post, here’s a winter playlist for ya!

Winters have been a hard season for me, especially the past few years. There is less sun and lake time, and I also get SAD (seasonal affective disorder) symptoms. It’s a time when grief feels too heavy.

All of the hard things I’ve pushed down in the midst of the warm, sunny, adventurous, and busy time of the spring and summer - now remind me that they are here, in the quiet of the cold, dark evening. When I am not out with friends, but at home, just me and my bebe Q*bert. On top of this, I’ve been sick multiple times and feeling overall emotionally and physically exhausted. I’ve been feeling a creative block for most of the fall/winter.

The other day I was taking a (colddd) walk through the snow, thinking about how much I miss the warm, sunny walks I took all spring and summer. I was asking winter what lessons it might have for me. They responded - winter will be here whether you like it or not. And you can choose to resist that, or you can choose to be in harmony with it. It’s really up to you - like damn… sometimes when I ask the question, the answer comes through so clearly 😅

Winter will be winter. Grief will be grief. And I can choose to resist that, or I can choose to be in harmony with it. It’s up to me.

deep breath.

It feels hard to talk about grief sometimes. Like we were taught to believe grief should be processed quietly, conveniently, and for a brief time.

It is a superstitious feeling, as if speaking of it will quicken its arrival. Like the coming loss is waiting to jump out of the bushes when I least expect it.

But I know that what I say will neither bring the inevitable closer nor further away. All I know is now and then, with some guessing in between.

A few years ago, my mom was diagnosed with a neurodegenerative condition without treatment options. So I know there will be a time with my mom, and a time without her. I live this dual reality every day. Sometimes one stream of the timeline will feel stronger than the other. I think winter makes it harder, because in this season I feel faced with all these reflections that are hard to look at.

Sometimes I think of grief as something that just takes and takes. However, I am learning that, when I allow myself to feel it, grief has a great deal to offer us. Grief teaches me one of the most beautiful lessons I will ever know - the power of presence.

Knowing that one day I may lose the things I love the most reminds me that there is infinite value in every moment of deep presence with them.

So while I grieve not being in the timelines where my mom is fully healthy - in this timeline, I get to soak up every moment we spend together. Every laugh, every snuggle, every time I help her move, or watch an episode of Little House on the Prairie with her, is a gift of deep presence, a very here-ness. In this way, grief can make every moment a gift.

And maybe this is what it looks like to live in harmony with winter, with grief - to allow my body to feel the hard things, to just f*cking cry when I need to cry, to let it transform me and gift me a new perspective - to let grief give way to presence.