The morning is cold, cold may be an understatement. The morning is frigid, harsh, and unrelenting, it’s bitter cold, not crisp and refreshing. The wind bites and slices like razor blades, yet the skin remains unmarked. Words and thoughts can be the same, cutting deep and leaving no visible trace of the damage done. Once things are done, they can not be undone, and once some things have been said the words take seed and grow like weeds in someone’s mind. Our own self-doubt nourishes the weeds and so a cycle begins of weeding and growing because we never quite figure out how to pull them from the roots and rid ourselves from them forever. If someone’s words can do that to us, then our words can do that to others. That’s why it is so important to not speak words of anger and frustration easily because no matter how many apologies happen the seed is now planted and the weeds will grow.
The winter months can provide the perfect storm to fall into a cold self-reflection. Most of us take refuge indoors and the days are dark for longer. It makes it all too easy to tuck into a soft warm place like a bed and sleep for some a little too much and for others, it’s in an attempt to gain sleep that one can not seem to get during designated hours. One wonders if our ancestors also suffered from seasonal depression, but truthfully they didn’t have that luxury, they were busy surviving. They didn’t have as much downtime, strange we think of ourselves as busy and view their time as having been more simple and happier. It wasn’t simple though, it was hard and they too even without jobs as we have them now, worked too with little time to just exist. We love to romanticize the past and how much better we feel different would be. I would be willing to bet that many of your ancestors would trade off on the hard work you do today for the convenience that you have. The problem may be for us that we have now reached an oversaturation of convenience and distraction.