Winter Layers

It’s been cold lately, and I’m getting tired of all the layers. Layers of clothes to stay warm. Layers of darkness as the night dominates. Layers of emotion. The winter has always been a melancholic season for me, and I think that’s fitting, given the freezing death all around during that time of year. I also think it’s important to give that feeling lots of time to settle in—layers, remember.

This year has been no different than many others before it. But at the same time, it’s completely different—better, really. While I feel like so much is still so far out of my reach, it feels like this year, I got just a wee bit closer. A sort of tease of the future ahead of me, maybe. 

Right now, it’s pretty hard being a young adult in the world. So much is so expensive, and so much is in various states of turmoil, threatening worse-case scenarios. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll be able to navigate these coming years with some grace. But who knows? This is just one of the many layers I find myself excavating this winter—for once, I’m thinking of the future.

I want to be hopeful for the future, and in some ways I am. However, I’m also realistic with my expectations, and I know that given the circumstances in the political, economic, and social spheres, it’s more likely that the next decade (?) will be a challenging one. Change happens slowly, regardless of whether it’s good or bad.

At home, I wrap myself in the layers of these kinds of thoughts. Worrying about how I’ll make it through. I curl up on the couch and catch myself doom-scrolling through the anxiety. A dopamine hit will definitely help this situation, surely (it does not). 

But in the winter, you need to think about these things and really let your body sit with the feelings that arise. It’s healthy to reflect and mentally prepare when situations get rough. Yes, lying down and doing self-care can make a difference in your resilience, but I think looking at the circumstances and coming to grips with them is equally important.

We can’t exist in detached escapism. If we want to make change, we need to see what kind of shit we’re dealing with. Sticking your head in the sand isn’t going to do anything. I understand that paying attention to the world around you, and I mean the world in your immediate proximity, can be difficult but it is so important because this is how change happens. Noticing things, putting in an effort.

To make the world better, leaving it better than you found, requires honest self-reflection and a willingness to notice what’s wrong and think critically about the why. That way, you can put your ego aside and consider what will benefit your community over what will benefit you. 

Apathy is boring, it’s lame, a real loser of an activity. What are you doing with yourself if you’re not passionate about something worthwhile? There’s a whole world around us with a whole slew of problems, and tons of people needing help—you can always start there. Your actions don’t have to be huge demonstrations (although they do help), but small acts of kindness, mutual aid, or a willingness to help amplify others’ voices. Those are all things that makes a difference to someone.

I think part of the reason why I’m getting tired of all the layers this winter is because I have the itch to do something, to start something, to create and connect. I’ve been thinking about community a lot, what that means to me, and who’s a part of my community.

While I tend to keep my friend group small, I consider familiar strangers members of my community. Especially those who’ve shared a word or two with me. It feels good to be approachable, to be a friendly face when I’m at the local coffee shop or park. I gather that that’s what belonging is like; it’s not about fitting in but finding a place. 

Right now, while it’s cold and chilly outside, my place is on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, overthinking everything.

I am sorting through all the layers before I rejoin the community.