A little less gray

Winter has taken a step back. A step back to early October, with warm weather and rain. The general atmosphere of tiredness, a little frustration, and the anticipation of freezing air and new snow is palpable. It feels like everyone is somehow saddened by winter's setback.

I asked a friend a while ago how they were doing. Their answer brightened my day and made me smile long after. They replied in a melodic, singing voice, with a big smile on their face and shining eyes:

"It could be a little less gray."

What a lovely and admirable attitude.

We both laughed. They introduced their idea of "November depression weeks," during which nothing would be done. We would just relax and pamper our minds and bodies. We would focus on well-being and accept that it’s a bit depressing in November. For everyone. That’s completely okay. I told them I would be first in line if the November depression weeks ever see the light of day. What an amazing idea.

The hardest part is accepting that I don’t feel energetic right now. That it’s perfectly okay to be tired and to accomplish only a few things during the day. To focus on taking a nap or starting another book. Let’s say it again.

It’s perfectly okay to be tired in November.

In the morning, I put on my rubber boots and decided to go outside, even though I didn’t feel like it. It was raining. I could hear the snow melting from inside. Water dripped from the moss on the yard tree like from a broken shower. It soaked my hair as I watched the wet moss under the tree. The most resilient ice floes on the river still hold their ground in the rain. From somewhere far away, I heard the song of the last swans. If I had wings, I would escape this weather. Somewhere to the north. Where winter has fled.

I felt revitalized from being outside, even though I stubbornly didn’t want to admit it at first. For some reason, I feel a strong need to surround myself with aesthetic things. With the beauty of nature. If I don’t see it around me, my mood drops, and I start to feel tired.

I was surprised by how much beauty I found in the November grayness when I sought it out intentionally.

Amidst the grayness, I found small moments where I forgot about the slushy, water-dripping ground, the brownish-gray, melting snow, and the tentacle-gray sky. It was beautiful how the melting river had drawn graphic shapes on the blue-gray ice. How the branches reaching into the water on the riverbank reflected themselves in the surface of the momentarily still water. How the misty, low-hanging sky creates a beautiful backdrop for the trees growing at the edge of the forest clearing, like a blank canvas. How beautiful and somehow meaningful it feels to find a heart-shaped tree trunk sprouting up from the snow, as if it wants to be seen and photographed.

Beauty can indeed be found when you search for it.

It's okay to feel down in November. To feel tired. To feel sleepy. It’s all right. I say this equally to myself as well as to you. Perhaps most of all, I say it to myself. I plan to continue reading my book—the one I dragged home in a heavy cloth bag from the village library one evening, along with dozens of other books. I don’t want them to run out. That would be the worst.

Depressing, but restful November.

♥ Hugs, Sanna