The Lure of Comfort

January 27, 2024

Like many places, winter in the midwest is unpredictable.  Last year we had a white Christmas, with dangerously cold temperatures and unpleasant road conditions for days.  This Christmas Eve our high temperature is 55 degrees Fahrenheit and skies are gray as far as the eye can see.  Some watch the weather anxiously for the term “Alberta Clipper”, in hopes that a day off of school might be in the cards.  Sledding, skiing, and tubing are no guarantee, because snow isn’t either.  Winter resorts are few and far between, and they don’t always fit the budget.

Perhaps, however, the weather is not the biggest challenge.  We have more daylight hours than our more northernly friends, but we still feel the effects of the lack of light.  As our vitamin D reserves from brighter days dwindle, we are prone to illness and general lethargy.  Many folks who go to work in darkness return home in darkness as well.  The risk of depression and substance abuse grows higher.  We consider the days to be short and the nights to be long.  We remember the seasons of being separated from family and friends for fear of spreading Covid and shudder.  

This winter I’m trying a new perspective.  Seasons of struggle and waiting are part of the human experience.  But winter and the darkness it brings do not need to determine our fate for three months of the year.  We were not made to hibernate like some of our animal friends.  Although adjustments must be made, all of nature does not pause just because the sun goes down and we don’t need to either.  With the right preparations, there are ways to safely and economically experience the beauty and stillness of winter outdoors.     

I’m not recommending anyone put themselves in danger – but comfort is overrated.  I acknowledge that I am more comfortable on my couch binge watching my favorite series or scrolling social media, but I am becoming painfully aware that time is slipping away faster than I could have imagined.  I get the eerie sense that we are held hostage by our devices, luring us to comfort and a false sense of security, all the while our mental health declines making real the actual most imminent threat to our well-being.  

Thrift some cold weather gear.  Bundle up and take a night hike.  Wrap up with blankets and observe the stars.  Build a fire and invite friends for hot chocolate. Search for interesting driftwood by flashlight at the lake or creek.  Watch the sunrise or sunset and notice how the location changes as the days go by.  Go bank fishing.  Make the most of the evenings by observing the world at night well before bedtime.         

Safety matters, and darkness and cold bring their own set of risks.  But we shouldn’t fool ourselves into thinking that comfort equals safety.  

Happy exploring,

Emily