What I Learned | Winter 2023
I’m sitting at my kitchen table, looking out over a snow-covered meadow, and there is a cardinal perched on a nearby tree, plucking icy berries from the branches. I can see smoke rolling out of the neighbor’s chimney and smell fresh pumpkin bread permeating the house from the oven... I wish this beautiful picture I’ve just painted was true. Sadly, we haven’t had measurable all winter and I’m too exhausted to bake. I don’t even live near a meadow, but a girl can dream. Can’t she?
This has been an odd season on all accounts. I’ve spent most of it holed up at home, avoiding a variety of viruses that have been circulating in my area like the plague. A handful of days have been warm enough to open windows and have made me feel like I should be spring cleaning. Winter isn’t technically over for twenty days, but I’m still crossing my fingers and hoping for a late-season snowstorm. Until then, here’s what I’ve learned this season.
It’s okay to change my mind.
In 2017, I started the practice of writing a review for each book that I read. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I doubt the New York Times is going to come and beg me to write for their book columns. But it is a short paragraph or two that summarizes my impression of the books that I read, and it’s something I’ve enjoyed doing because it has encouraged me to be a deep reader. Before 2017, I gave books a place on the five-star scale. This year, I began a project to go back and review those books that were left behind, beginning in the early days, often needing to re-read them.
What I’m finding is that my taste in books has changed drastically since then. What I enjoyed ten years ago, I might think is trash now, and vice versa. I’ve had fun seeing how much I’ve grown, based on my consumption of books. This experience reminded me that it’s okay to change my mind about other things too. I don’t have to make a firm decision about every topic and stick with it for life. Preferences and opinions can be fluid, and ever-changing with more information and experiences.
Love isn’t always a positive feeling.
Andrew Knapp has a brand that is centered around his late dog, Momo, (and now Boo and Yaya,) and I’ve followed him for years because a lot of what he writes just tears at my heart. A few months back, in his Momo Magazine newsletter, he wrote the following about grieving a loved one and memories:
“Being a witness to aging gives us permission to reach into the past to adorn our current moment with cherished memories… When we think about love, we think about positive emotions. Happiness, excitement, and laughter might come to mind. You might disagree, but I think love is more sophisticated than this. Love does not prioritize joy. I think love includes fear, sadness, anxiety, and a lot of other emotions we tend to avoid. Make room for sadness — it’s part of the multifaceted truth that is love. It’s all part of our experience.”
I’ve always thought of love as the warm, fuzzy feeling, like what we experience with new love. But it’s really about all the emotions that we feel when we open our hearts to someone or something. Allowing love into our lives also opens us up to pain, sadness, grief, fear, anger, and jealousy. Pretty scary stuff! To love fully, we have to accept that there are buckets full of other emotions we are likely to experience before, during, and after that love.
We all suffer from imposter syndrome. Those who don’t are robots.
This morning, I was on a group Instagram account that I help manage and received a video from a follower. They were talking about how they almost didn’t take a chance at an opportunity because they didn’t believe they had anything important to say but then realized that they are allowed to take up space, so decided to go for it. I was so encouraged by their vulnerability in sharing that. Imposter syndrome is something we all struggle with at times, and when we don’t talk about it, it makes it more difficult for us to move beyond it. When we are fighting the nagging voice inside of us that tells us we aren’t good enough, we should talk about it.
There are an infinite number of ways to be creative.
Some of my friends have started their #100days projects already, and I’m amazed by the creativity that people can come up with and how unique we are. One friend, in particular, is working in a medium that I love, but she’s doing it in a way that I never would have thought of, and it’s beautiful. I’m so grateful to be able to learn and expand my mind with the people I’m surrounded by. Life never gets old with them around.
Grieving often starts before the loss.
Grief is a topic that is often on my mind. This morning, I was thinking about someone I know who is preparing to lose a loved one. Her family member has already outlived the predicted expiration date tenfold, and she is preparing for the worst this year. I thought about how we often start to grieve way before the actual loss. If we know someone who has a terminal illness, we plant our feet and ready ourselves for the phone call, for the bad news, for the broken heart. It’s almost a different kind of grief than what we experience after a shocking loss, but that extra time to prepare doesn’t filter any of the pain as it trickles down to the levee breach that’s sure to come.
I guess the lesson I’ve learned from this is to love my people well, take care of them, and treat them right, and not to skip out on the little moments because of the distractions that are always present. This is a lesson I’m taking with me into seasons to come.
