Farewell to Winter Blues: How to Bid a Fond Farewell to Our Maligned Season

For the last few days now, I have found myself feeling almost uncomfortably hot whilst wearing a jumper, and the heater that we have been sitting in front of for the past few months is slowly transforming into what I know will be a dust magnet for a good while, until I need to use it on the fan setting to stop us from melting on those scorching summer days. So, as the weather is warming and the sun is setting markedly later, I find myself reflecting on the winter before it leaves us.

I think it may well be the antithetical nature of this time of year, when it is not quite winter but not quite spring, that has made me ponder this. You see, I am a lover of oxymorons: the blurring of begins and endings, light and darks, uncanny and sublime. And this particular time of year is marked by such a liminal juncture because of our contrasting associations with winter and spring.

Spring

Spring has always represented rebirth and I remember, as a child, the many hours spent at school decorating eggs and designing 'Happy Easter' cards, not to mention the excitement at receiving chocolate to mark the occasion. Now, many, many years later, I still associate the spring time with creativity - my own and mother nature's. And, as I write this, I take a moment to look out of the window and yes, I see that familiar green of daffodil leaves, bursting through the soil, stoical and almost showy against the multitude of brown mulched leaves - the remnants of the autumn, representing, for me, my own inertia and lack of industriousness, during the autumn and winter months, particularly with regards to garden maintenance. The sun seems to be shining much brighter now too, and it is sometimes difficult to not want to just drop everything to go outside to be at one with it. In this way, spring is definitely a positive season - we almost actually feel as though we have been reborn. But, in order to be reborn, we surely have had to die first?

Winter

When I type 'Winter associations' into Google, I am faced with words like 'loathing', 'sadness', 'darkness' and 'melancholy'. But what really struck me were the words 'sleep' and 'silence', two really important states, especially for me: I need at least a significant portion of my day to be completely silent - no radio, no background noise, no conversation; I also love sleep and have come to appreciate it more as I have gotten older. So, if winter is associated with these two things, what's not to love? The problem is that Winter receives such a bad rap that we really struggle to love it. This is because there is something undeniably deathly about it; the leaves on the trees have long gone by December and darkness pervades for the majority of our days - it is actually remarkably funereal with its enveloping palpable gloominess and prevention of lightness. And we cannot return from death - or so it would seem.

And this is the issue - we do return from this death, spring is testament to this, but interestingly, we never speak about such thing as being re-dead, but being reborn? We love that phrase and it very much exists in our vocabulary. We use it to refer to ourselves snd others positively and, ironically, use dying metaphorically to suggest a euphoric reaction or as a hyperbolic description of pain. I want to propose that if we can be reborn in Spring, then we can be raised from the death of winter, simply by reframing how we think about it.

Hibernation

When I was eleven, maybe twelve, I had a pet hamster that I named Frisky and she lived in a well maintained cage in our living room. I never neglected her, taking her out of her cage regularly to interact with her and almost ensuring that she had clean water and food. I was used to her appearing from beneath the sawdust and that is when I sued to play with her, always being mindful, even at that age, of not waking her up when she was asleep. But when she had not emerged for a couple of days, I felt that something was wrong and convinced myself that she must have died. I opened the cage and she was lying under the sawdust, still and non-responsive. On day three, it was unanimously agreed that she was dead and should therefore be buried in the garden. Before the fourth day, the day of internment, despite my dad's warning not to in case it would be too upsetting for me, I approached the cage to say goodbye to my beloved first pet. I saw her moving. She was not dead, neither had she some scary zombie hamster, she was very much alive.

Frisky was in torpor, a short term state of hibernation, typically only lasting a few days. It turns out that, I may have been feeding her, playing with with her and cleaning her cage, but I had not been keeping her warm enough. She had been simply preserving her energy in order to survive the cold conditions I did not realise were impacting her. She had had a lucky escape and used what resources she had to survive as do many mammals.

Three of the UK mammal species hibernate during the winter: bats, hedgehogs and dormice, with other animals using the season for deliberate inactivity in order to survive until spring. And yes, we humans often bemoan the fact that we are not awarded such luxury - we cannot simply work throughout autumn, gathering and stocking up on food and supplies, then, when winter arrives, barricade ourselves inside, wrapped in blankets doing absolutely nothing but resting, never to leave the our homes again until the spring. At some stage, we are compelled to leave the house, even during the pandemic, very few of us remained inside for the duration. And even if we are able to make staying inside during winter a reality, it is highly unlikely that we would, out of choice, be completely inactive during this time - we need to prepare meals a the very least.

So what can we do? Well, the first thing is to reframe our thoughts about winter and view it as a time needed for us to recharge before spring and, in order for this to be successful, we need to think about it as a positive parturition process, preparing us for re-emergence and, ok, rebirth if you like. Instead of viewing winter as some sort of metaphorical sarcophagus, we should see it, instead, as being our chrysalises; the chrysalis may well be dark and impenetrable, but it is also protecting the insect from harm whilst it develops and matures. From these natural structures, butterflies appear and they would not exist without this process. We need winter in order to prepare for our own re-emergence. We need to recognise it as a time when it is cold because it is the time when we need to create our own warmth; it is dark, because it is the time when we need to create our own light; it is death because it is the time when we need to create our own life - and we do these things by taking care of ourselves, eating well and resting our minds when we can; we also do this by being grateful for the season as, without it, we would not be able to re-emerge at the same time as nature does and this synchronicity with nature is what we really need to embrace to feel present. The more we fight against winter and view it as the enemy, the more we are fighting ourselves. We need to appreciate the season as our time of necessary restful preparation.

I am lucky though - I can heat my home and have a bed to sleep in, so I can look forward to winter when it revisits, but there are many who will bid a good riddance to it, including those who cannot keep warm and cannot guarantee consuming a warm meal during the season. It is so easy for me to sit here at my desk in my warmish home, writing about the wonders of winter, advocating that we all view it as this time of growth, but, despite only really writing about what I know, I also write from a place of consideration for others. We need to do what we can to ensure that we all are able to prepare for the spring, not just ourselves, because, unlike butterflies and moths, we are in this thing together, and if someone does not have the resources to prepare, then we need to do what we can to assist - we can donate coats and blankets; we can volunteer at soup kitchens and homeless shelters and we can visit vulnerable loved ones, or invite them into our own homes to ensure that we all have the tools needed to ensure that our physical, spiritual and mental chrysalises are fit for purpose. Whether young or old, housed or homeless, working or unemployed, we all need the resources to enable us to regard winter differently and, if we cannot assist in the ways that I have suggested here, then we can, at least, be communicate with others to be aware of how you can help them to build that much needed chrysalis. We need to do what we can to ensure that as many people in our lives are able to have a better winter this year.

So, as we now emerge into spring, I will make sure that I bid winter a fond farewell, hoping that when it comes round again, as many of us as possible are able to experience the positives that come with it and emerge as that butterfly just in time for the daffodils.

www.lisamasoncooper.com

I am Lisa Mason-Cooper, accredited life coach, whose services include hypnotherapy and counselling. I am passionate about all things relating to healing, mental health and