It Is Warmth I Miss | 11.15.20
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When the cold comes, and it always comes, we’re never quite as prepared as we think we should be. We lie, tell ourselves we’ve been through it before, we’ll get through it again, but without fail it is startling, it is jarring, and it shakes us to the centers. Winter in a state like Montana takes what you think you know of endurance, and erodes it. It washes it away in small increments, in darkness coming at 4:45pm, in sunrises that wait until 8am. It pulls away pieces of yourself in early September snowfall that stays until the first of May, in two weeks straight where the temperature never rises above -15°F, and you stop feeling your fingers within moments of stepping outdoors. It tests you, like all things test you, and my hope is that on the other side of all this, such great strength is born. Now, wherever you are reading this, whatever your weather, ask yourself this: What have you endured that you never thought possible? What strength was born in the things you survived that you swore would undo you? Let us know, if you wish.
Take these frozen hands
and breathe life back into them.
It is warmth I miss.
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I endured a trauma when I was a little girl, and when it was uncovered I felt like I had been consumed by negative emotions, guilt, betrayal, shame, I didn’t think I could ever have a sense of normalcy ever again. Thankfully I have overcome it. And I wake up every morning knowing I am strong, and I will never let those feelings consume me every again. Thank you Tyler, for creating such a safe space in which we can share our deepest darkest parts and still be accepted. 💛
I know you were talking about actual cold, but those first few lines read like a beautiful anaology for the mental health roller coaster on which many of us find ourselves unwilling riders. Thank you for your words that are always warmth in the bitter cold for me.