Winter has always deflated me. Each one has cast me into the depths of the winter blues. Every year, plagued by the bite of frozen winter mornings and entombed by the darkness of short winter days, I hold my breath for three months while waiting for spring. I sit crouched in the corner, hugging my knees and rocking, wishing for the sharp chill in the air to pass and the constant drizzle to subside. In my mind, winter is monotone, a palette of grey, black and white. The season has always lacked any life, any air or any possibility.
For what feels like my whole life I have spent each winter waiting. All winter I wait for spring, wait for the end of the year, wait for summer holidays. This year, for the first time, I do not feel the same. As the wind turns colder and the leaves begin to fall I do not feel deflated. Instead, to my surprise, I feel invigorated. The difference is that I am no longer waiting. Every winter till now, I have sat behind the veil of what I thought was my dream. I thought it was to be married and be the perfect wife. But I have my happily ever after, only to realise that this is not my dream. I thought it was to have a family and be the perfect mother. But I have the pitter-patter of tiny feet down our hallways, only to realise again that this is not my dream.
My dream is to write. It always has been. Every winter, I have braced myself against the cold, and the gloom, cowering in the freezing temperatures; all the while ignoring the loud, hungry call of my dream.
The warmer months of spring and summer always offer many distractions. Christmas celebrations, holidays away and long hot nights are my escape. When the sun shines high in the sky, there has always been another voice to listen to. The carefree whispers of the summer breeze always leave me feeling that life is eternal and dreams can wait, until just one more day is spent in the sun. Yet, each year, when winter settles in the buried voice crescendos. Every winter I strike battle with my own inability to take the reins and pursue something I have always wanted.
So this year, as the dark winter nights close in and icy winter mornings start to nip, I’ll be wrapping myself up in my new coat. I will be pulling on my new boots and cuddling up in the new scarf my mother bought me. This winter, my conversations will be about characters and storylines. The heavy rains that fall on those raging winter nights will be the symphony of tragedy and the love that unfolds with my words. I will entertain a plot, empower a heroine and turn pages of possibility over and over.
This winter I will be sharing my coffee with my words. For too long, I have spent my winter nights tormented by the season. This winter, I embrace the change and the chance to finally write and change the palette to one of vibrant colour.
Do you hide from winter?
The next Conversations over Coffee link will open on
Thursday June 27, 2013 (7am EST)
The theme is Conversations with the Mirror ~ everyone is welcome xx