I was walking to a store in Manhattan a few weeks ago.
“It’s so cold,” I accidentally said out loud to the ground and not in my head.
I looked up to see if anybody was looking at me. There was one woman nearby, but she wasn’t paying attention. “It’s SO COLD!” she was shouting into her phone.
I hurried inside. The greeter was standing in a black suit with his hands folded in front of him. “It’s so cold” he told me quietly.
Back in autumn I had told myself that I was going to run an experiment in embracing winter this year—really leaning into it and celebrating it as a season.
I had envisioned soup, eggnog, cozy evenings reading with experimental cardamom hot chocolate.
I remembered my winter in Prague in 2018. (That trip itself manifested from visions of beautiful cozy winters.)
I did get the cardamom hot chocolate and eggnog at a New Year’s party, but since then, I had entirely forgotten that these were options.
A friend had reminded me that if we are huddling inside working trying very hard to forget that it is winter, then it would be easy to forget that it is winter.
“The problem is that we should all be hibernating right now.”
I’ve spent most of this winter tinkering with the heat settings, checking how much I can open the window to optimize for both air flow and not freezing.
But I do not consider it a total wash.
Let’s take an inventory of things I did not do this winter, and things I did do this winter.
Twig Wreath
Beautiful symbolic and sentimental wreaths made of twigs.
Slowing down and creating a relationship between yourself and the individual branches, heightening the individuality of each into art—is something I did not do this winter.
Mulled Wine
Heat up some wine you don’t like and put oranges, pears, cinnamon, star anise—whatever you like in it, and it will change the flavor and feel homey and wintery.
Definitely something I did not do.
Run Away to Puerto Rico
I had fantasized of the beaches, the animals, the food, the sunshine. But, in the end, I had failed to run away to Puerto Rico.
Things I did Do
Solved the New Cold War
I noticed that Elsa looks like the Very Famous Russian Snow Maiden. Is this the end of the New Cold War? She is called “Snegurachka” and is a very important Russian winter icon.
Stared Intently at the Grayness of the Ground
The grayness of the ground! Only surpassed in splendor by Moby Dick’s Chapter 42: The Whiteness of the Whale.
If I look hard enough, maybe I will not break my knee.
Drank Hot Dr. Pepper
Heat it up, then pour it over a lemon.
It’s like a hot toddy. Hot Dr. Pepper!
This is a drink that was advertised in the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Dr. Pepper sales were lower in the winter, so they promoted a hot way to drink it!
You can check out a recipe and review here.
Bringing Winter Home with Us
It is interesting to think about—in trying to shut winter out, what I’m left with is both all the bad parts and a stale version of the season.
But what does bringing winter home mean, when home is so different for everyone?
Growing up I had dreamed of spending winters in California—but having spent some of the last winter in California, it was still winter, just winter in California.
There is a big difference of course (I got to hang outside), but what does winter mean, if winters feel different in different locations all around the world? What does winter mean in the coldest places and the warmest?
We can perhaps lean into winter as the Platonic Winter—the season surrounding the darkest days of the year, whatever that means for each location.
I recall a debate between West Coast and East Coast Canadians—do we want the darkness and the gray skies and no snow, or do we want snow and bright sun? Which is more depressing?
I recall a debate between Angelinos and New Yorkers—do we want to be able to go on picnics, but only feel muted seasons, or do we want to feel the seasons in full force in order to be in touch with cyclicality?
In London, they have created one of the most beautiful things—a yearly Winter Wonderland. They have booths with hot cider, pretzels, donuts, anything your heart can want (if what your heart wants is perfect synergy between winter goodies and carnival fanfare).
A true testament to light in the darkness! Or a mini, wintery Las Vegas. The pinnacle of splendor or the pinnacle of kitsch, depending on your style!
I am not saying that winter *has* to feel like this all the time. It can feel bad too—but I want a better relationship with its badness.
I would like to keep thinking about the unique properties of winter and how I can enjoy a relationship with those, rather than ever-deepening my intimacy with my thermostat.
