We had a winter storm here today.
Not the cute, fluffy, “Hallmark Movie” snow that makes you want to bake cookies and fall in love with a rugged Christmas Tree farmer. No, this was the other kind. The freezing rain. The ice that coats the world in a beautiful, deadly shell and turns the sidewalk into a slip-and-slide for the unprepared.
Naturally, I decided to go for a walk.
Caption: If you look closely, you can see the exact moment my soul left my body to find a radiator.
There is a scientific theory (that I just made up) that Gingers are not built for this weather. Our skin is already translucent; we don’t need to blend in with the snow any more than we already do. We are solar-powered creatures, designed for… well, not direct sunlight, because we burn, but certainly not for this.
But there is something weirdly “Self-Care” about braving the elements.
We usually think of Self-Care as bubble baths, face masks, and refusing to answer emails. And it is those things. But sometimes, it’s about reminding yourself that you are physically present in the world.
Walking through the ice-coated trees, hearing the crunch of frozen grass under my boots, feeling the wind try to bite my face off—it wakes you up. It forces you out of your head and into your body. You can’t worry about book deadlines or calendar sales when you are actively focusing on not falling on your butt.
I lasted exactly 20 minutes.
The ice was beautiful, the air was crisp, and the silence was deafening. But now I am back inside, wrapped in three blankets, with a mug of tea that is dangerously hot.
Because the best part of going out into the freezing cold isn’t the walk itself. It’s the moment you walk back through the door, kick off the boots, and realize you don’t have to go back out there again.
Happy Self-Care Sunday, everyone. Stay warm.
-Zachary Starr
(P.S. If you need me, I’ll be thawing out until April.)
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