Winter grinds down upon me like an iron vise, despite a day of 55 degree temps. I force myself out the door to do laps. Lap five sitting by the frozen creek does not bring the same fullness or relief that fills me when the silence wraps me like a warm blanket. The silence chills me further. I walk back up the gentle slope to the house still slightly surprised at how just walking causes my heart to pound and my breath to come harder. Maybe it’s the low iron levels because other levels have almost reached normal levels. The internal bleeding seems to have stopped. For now.
The fresh air and exercise brings a lift from the purgatory winter brings, too many days of dark clouds and no sun. I tell myself over and over how grateful I should be, remembering how I craved just to be home when hospitalized. And that helps. I am so glad to be here with Samuel and little Cindy. We’ve had an entire extra day with her because she has a cold and nursery school would be too much. But even her presence won’t crack my ice. She gravitates to Samuel who plays with her endlessly and I smile, coming present, knowing how quiet this house would be without them both.
So I’m OK. This winter stuff is just something I go through each year. There’s been a few years it hits so hard I need help shuffling through it without drowning, but not this year. This is the usual. I use my morning full spectrum lights as I catch the first twenty minutes of the news with Gail and Charlie Rose. Then I move on to other things; mosaics, baking, some cleaning, and as always, meditation and exercise.