This is the winter of our discontent. The winter that never ends. No mid-winter thaw for those of
us shivering in the Northeast.
Arctic air dips down so low we set new records of temperature lows each
week that passes. As for me, I
cocoon in my cozy condo. I
avoid the snowstorms and icy roads with abandon. But even one who has a high tolerance for ‘alone time’
eventually craves the outside world. I checked the weather and this weekend appears
to be….dare I say it?
Snowstorm free.
I celebrate the news and look forward to my brother’s visit.
I have seen much solitude these winter months. Now for those of you who fear
being alone, take a deep breath and let it out. Solitude is actually a healthy choice during a period of transition. Don’t let others convince you
otherwise. It gives you the
space to determine what you truly need in the moment. It gives you the time to think deeply about what you want in
your life in the future. It
allows you to catch up on movies you missed and read that stack of books under
your coffee table. It also gives you the inspiration to reach out to others on your
own terms. To forge new
friendships with neighbors who are as snowbound as yourself.
It’s interesting how this has evolved. The winter when my husband first passed away was endless in its own way. I felt like I was in solitary confinement in my little condo prison. No early out until you finish your grieving said my prison warden. Or so it seemed. I was comforted by people trying to help and support me. Or perhaps seeking help and support of their own from me. Many of those grief- forged relationships turned out to be transitional. They were not meant to last – they were trying to encourage me and get me past the worst of the pain. Some were doing a good deed. May I one day pass that on to others in pain.
What I have learned is that these transitional relationships can prove to be transformative if you allow it to be so. As you move forward, you simply need to let them go. Yet always remember to take with you what you learned from them. Did they help heal your heart in some small way? Provide inspiration or suggestions you can implement? And so I spend another winter in my condo. I appreciate the difference between the now and the then. I may be living in an alternate reality. I still miss the old one. But I see some hellos- the start of some new friendships. Perhaps they will be of more permanence. It’s hard to tell from this vantage point. Only time will tell.
It’s interesting how this has evolved. The winter when my husband first passed away was endless in its own way. I felt like I was in solitary confinement in my little condo prison. No early out until you finish your grieving said my prison warden. Or so it seemed. I was comforted by people trying to help and support me. Or perhaps seeking help and support of their own from me. Many of those grief- forged relationships turned out to be transitional. They were not meant to last – they were trying to encourage me and get me past the worst of the pain. Some were doing a good deed. May I one day pass that on to others in pain.
What I have learned is that these transitional relationships can prove to be transformative if you allow it to be so. As you move forward, you simply need to let them go. Yet always remember to take with you what you learned from them. Did they help heal your heart in some small way? Provide inspiration or suggestions you can implement? And so I spend another winter in my condo. I appreciate the difference between the now and the then. I may be living in an alternate reality. I still miss the old one. But I see some hellos- the start of some new friendships. Perhaps they will be of more permanence. It’s hard to tell from this vantage point. Only time will tell.
