I’m usually a very “upbeat” person.
I tend to see the glass as half full. I look for the silver lining. I truly believe things could always be worse…. but for some reason, at precisely this time of year, most every year, I start to become noticeably, melancholy.
Just as most people are becoming filled with the magical spirit of the upcoming holidays, I feel myself beginning to withdraw and wither. Like the the trees outside the window, I feel myself unwillingly shedding all of my light, beauty and vibrancy; and like the trees, I feel cold and exposed.
The days grow shorter, darker and colder; and the realisation that another year has almost passed, falls upon me like (as my Mom would say) a ton of bricks. I begin to wonder; What have I accomplished? What have I done? Did I make a mark on the world? Did I do good?
Winter has always been (except when I lived in Florida, because there is no winter) a time of introspection and self assessment. It begins as a subtle shutdown of myself to the outside world and ends up with me in a state of meltdown, screaming at the universe, begging for some small sign, that my life (up to this point) has had meaning and value.
There will be a reprieve, as the lights of Christmas temporarily illuminate my path and raise my spirits, but the bleakness will inevitably return in the new year and no doubt last until the first signs of spring.
As I get ready to publish this rant, I have to laugh, knowing that this particular post will most likely not get me a lot of invitations to holiday parties and get togethers! I imagine that requests, for my presence at lunch or tea, may be few and far between…
Yes, perhaps it’s better best to leave this pathetic, brooding, lugubrious, sad sack to herself for awhile… but please do call when the crocuses bloom!