hibernation

My friend Amanda wrote a post about the necessary winter and that made me think of how I need winter, how winter is necessary for me. I depend, for my sanity, on regular outdoor walks, and so the bitter cold of Minnesota's winters and the short days of winter in Norway can be a challenge for me. But when I braved it through the cold on regular winter walks with my friend Dee the winter before we moved over here, and when, during these past few months, I had the luxury of going out during those precious hours in the middle of the day when there was some light here, it paid off in a greater sense of well-being.

And otherwise, I seek refuge in winter. I find that the stillness is solace for the soul, the time to go inwards, be inside, be quiet. Come spring and I get entirely ecstatic! The sun turns me on, makes me all wired. I dance through the months of spring and summer, my feet not even touching the ground, I get so giddy! If the year was like that, all the time, I would extinguish like a candle lit to burn from both ends.

I read Amanda's post from last June ("amazing. full. and beautiful.") and I wonder if the same isn't true for her...

Another friend wrote to me the other day, that he thought he had acclimated too well to the Pacific Northwest; they had had three days of sun this week and he'd found it disorienting, even disturbing. When the clouds returned, he felt much more comfortable. Maybe this friend simply wasn't ready for winter to end.

I think we need winter to escape from always having the spotlight on us, I think we need sometimes not to be seen, just as we may crave to be fully seen, for people to get us.

Or maybe I'm just psycho-babbling...