I Love January

An ode to January, written slowly. Learning to live with winter, not through it.

A walk in sub-zero temperatures. Photo by Hannah Torkelson

I love January. And not for any of the “fresh start,” “New Year, new me” hoopla. I never really paid particular attention to that stuff. I think it’s because I just don’t do well under external pressure from the world that doesn’t really know me. Those New Year’s resolutions? I simply have too much to work on. There’s no way I could jam it all in a box and check it off on January 1. I’m here — in my world, my home, my moment, my heart. I’ll be continuously undergoing change and growth, working on it daily.

Then there’s comparison. It’s that sneaky green-eyed black cat brushing against the bend of a wall, ever so softly stepping closer. Paw after paw, ready to flex its claws and pounce on its prey, swallowing them up so not even a squeak of true self can escape.

And the grand movement of it all? I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a fill my car up with gas without me knowing, write me a note on the fridge, bring me a cookie after dinner — small gesture kind of girl.

I prefer focusing on the day at hand, and today, in a beautiful one.

It’s 0 degrees Fahrenheit, -13 below with the wind chill. The snow is so subtly streaming down that you have to pause to focus your gaze on the wise background of a dark, weather-worn pine to notice its movement. It’s the kind of snow that makes you stretch your head a bit further around the window frame, wondering if it’s merely the blow of wind from the roof above.

We’re in the thick of winter here in Minnesota,

And I love January. Or at least I’m writing this to convince myself of such on some underlying level. I’d like to welcome you into a world where you don’t have to ‘get through’ the winter. Instead, I invite you to enjoy it for what it is. While it may not be soaking in the sun of July, you can most certainly hunker down in the warmth of a wool blanket with a hot mug of tea.

Here’s how I show my love for January, and the entire winter season. Being in Minnesota, that includes March and April, too (yes, we get snow in April). Really, we’re just getting started. Let’s do this!

But first, wool.

Just as some folks go straight for the coffee before tackling their day, I put on my wool base layers and socks. If picking a favorite clothing material is a thing, wool has my vote. As I sit writing this, I’m covered from the bottom up: wool socks, wool long johns, wool base layer top, wool blanket. Baaaa. Its natural fibers wick away moisture and regulate temperature, holding in my body heat in the cold and preventing me from overheating in the heat.

I guess now is the time to tell you that I have a thing for feet… cozy feet… okay, socks. I don’t even own a single pair of cotton socks. I want my feet hugged firmly by the comfort of wool all year long. They make wool socks in all shapes, sizes, thicknesses, and designs. Really, they’re like art. Biodegradable, eco-friendly, circulation-improving, odor- and bacteria-resistant (thanks to the lanolin in their fibers), art.

Okay, I think it’s time to add some sheep to the family — outside of myself, of course.

Suck it up!

The Scandinavian saying, “there is no bad weather, just bad clothing,” rings true. With the addition of… “and a bad attitude.” Getting outside for a walk each day sometimes comes with a 20-minute psyching-myself-up self-talk. Heck, some days I ask my husband to tell me to just go already! Other days, it requires an entire prayer. But most of the time, I suck it up. And once I get going, I’m always reminded that I actually prefer walking in the cold. It’s hard to argue that it’s not more eye-widening and invigorating than a sweaty trek in the dog days of summer.

Here’s my trick: I don’t let myself get too comfortable, too quickly. When I let myself feel the uncomfortable, I appreciate the comfortable so much more. Once I fully feel that dull ache on the face of my forehead and the twinge on the bridge of my nose, I can fully feel the warmth and relaxation of my cozy little cottage. Call me miserable, but that bitter cold wakes up my soul, rattling any pain out of my bones and leaving me with the purest joy I’ve ever known. And the most beautiful part? I always end up finding life in the dead of winter.

Let there be light! (But only the soft, warm kind, please).

As romantic as I want to sound, telling you my days start and end with a strike of a match followed by the hot, flickering glow of candlelight, wax ever so slowly pooling in its own stillness, I’d be a fraud. Well, sort of. I have a collection of battery-powered candles that genuinely flicker in the warmest, creamy hue, and any brief glance wouldn’t make you think twice. They are decorated throughout my home, bringing beauty, encouraging relaxation, and reminding me that light overcomes the darkness.

I do have my eyes on some gorgeous, clean-burning, locally made beeswax candles that will one day fill my home. But the present uncertainty of joyful little feet trumpeting all around makes up for any warmth my battery-powered candles lack, and the safety of us all fills any void.

My candles are the first bit of soft light my eyes greet in the darkness of pre-dawn and the last to shut off before bed. Thank you, dear husband, for making your nightly rounds.

Goodnight, icy moon.

My evening winter routine begins on a bundled-up walk with the illuminating sun dogs (also known as parhelia). As the sun sinks low, her companion lights twinkle on both sides against the snow-covered landscape. I say goodbye to the day as their shine disappears, like a crystal tilting into darkness.

In the depths of this season, the days are short, and so are mine. I don’t fight it; I align with it. When the icy moon appears in the darkened sky, I’m putting on my pajamas. Even if it’s 5 p.m., even if dinner is to be had. And my favorite late-day love language? Tossing my oversized, fuzzy robe in the dryer on high and hugging my shoulders in its closure of comfort.

After the kids are tucked in, my feet quickly scurry to my own bed to meet the heat of my rice hot pads under the sheets. A piping hot cup of herbal tea waits on my nightstand to warm me from the inside. Soon, my nose is buried in the steam of softly sweet, flowery chamomile. And I’m cuddled in my childhood memories of my mom sipping her own cup on a cold winter’s night, not all that long ago. Deep breath in, sip, deep breath out. Ahhhhh. I sink in, wrap up, and melt away the chill of the day.

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The winter season isn’t over yet. It prefers to take its time, as do I. The snow continues to fall when we close our eyes, and while we rest, the beauty accumulates. Tonight, I’ll pause here, and in the dawn comes a new day to love, winter.

More to come…

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