1987 Baby Blue Ford Tempo
On warming up to the cold
I need to be honest with you and let you know that I haven’t yet put up either of the Christmas trees this year. One for the living room, pink. One for the dining room, green to match that paint on the walls.
I’ve been struggling to get words out of my head for days, and I’ve been doing more talking about writing than writing which is always the most frustrating place I find myself.
I realized a few months ago that a thing I say when I write sometimes is “I find myself”. I take it out of every other thing that I write and I think it’s because at my core that’s always what I’m doing when I sit down to move through my thoughts.
I am writing to get to the core of who I am, what I want, and what I’m doing (what any of us are doing) anyway.
I am writing to reckon with my own becoming, and often I feel that I’m somewhere new, with something to discover.
The cold weather seldom agrees with me at first, and it takes some time for me to warm up to it (pun intended). Eventually I’ll move into a rhythm of making things with my hands, and cozying up to watch movies, and remembering to wear a scarf and gloves and cover my ears and grab my coat and wear warm socks when I go out.
But right now I’m just realizing I don’t think I’ve ever owned earmuffs as an adult.
Right now I’m googling “warmest gloves, no really” and hoping the search engine doesn’t laugh in my face because what grown adult get’s this physically affected by the weather?
The cold always stops me in my tracks for a little bit, and like the 1987 Baby Blue Ford Tempo of my college years, I take a while to warm up. Like a little bit longer than you’d expect. Like give it a second and I swear to goodness she’ll work again!
I’m just coming unthawed and remembering how to be a person again in the moments where I’m not busy with work, or with planning Thanksgiving, or with working on Christmas.
I’m remembering that I am at peace with the changing of the seasons, and even if I’m not they happen anyway.
Eventually I’ll decorate for the holidays, and for however long my halls are decked I’ll celebrate the warmth of twinkling lights and tinsel.
I’m not forcing anything this season, a promise I made to myself when the leaves first changed color and began to fall to the ground.
I’ll take the season as it comes even if it makes me grumble. I’ll buy earmuffs and remember my coat.
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