Does life seem a little thin lately?
Has your day-to-day existence lost its flavour?
Do you find it hard to get out of bed in the morning?
Are even easy tasks hard to pull off?
Do you feel like Tom Hanks in Joe Versus the Volcano, like you’re living in drab black and white, not glorious colour?
Then you, my friend, may have the winter blues.
This is the time of year when the residents of this country are locked in the dead of winter.
We’ve all made it through January — which is like one big, long Monday at the beginning of the year — but February refuses to end. The days are dragging. Winter has us by the throat.
I feel it, too.
That’s because I’m a summer person trapped in a winter nation.
I realize harsh winters are a direct consequence of living in the best country on the planet. I hate winter. Yet winter rules Canada for months at a time.
I do what I can to make the most of it.
Surprisingly, my wife and I have managed to keep up our routine of walking our two dogs outside three times a day. Somehow, we manage to put one foot in front of the other, despite the chilly weather. We trudge outdoors morning, noon and night.
As I have written before, winter feels to me like a weight pressing down on my shoulders. Winter feels . . . heavy.
In summer, it’s easy to walk out the door. You slip on some sandals and you’re gone.
On the other hand, at this time of year — in order to protect yourself from the oppressive cold — you are required to put on layers of clothing, long underwear, heavy boots, bulky coats. Life itself is cumbersome.
It probably doesn’t help that I’m not really into any cold-weather activities. Smarter people find a way to make use of the snow and the frigid landscape, so they can maintain their sanity.
But I don’t play hockey. I don’t skate. I don’t ski. Truly, I need to get a hobby.
As a kid, I loved to go tobogganing. I really should take that up again. That would be one way to stay sane.
Mostly, I like to hang out indoors. Perhaps my fondest memories from the last few years have been of my wife and me sitting together under blankets in front of the toasty woodstove in our kitchen, reading or just hanging out with our three cats and the dogs.
But too much time cooped up indoors leads to cabin fever. Maybe you’ve felt it, too. The walls close in on you.
Still, that’s better than being out in the open.
I can take the snow, the ice, the freezing rain. It’s the wind that gets to me, those chilly blasts that blow right through you — you feel as thin as a dirty sheet flapping in the wind.
At this point, all we can do is try to grin and bear it. All we can do is consider every day that brings us closer to the inevitable arrival of spring as a victory. If you don’t have the money to take a sunny vacation, give yourself permission to spoil yourself.
I know it’s no fun when your skin is perpetually dry. Your lips are cracked. Your back aches from shoveling. And you’re thoroughly sick of chiseling off that layer of thick ice from your windshield every morning.
It won’t be long until sunny days are here again. I promise.
Hang in there.
