I love winter.
Some people don't. Some people curse it, condemn it, pray for its timely demise.
But not me.
I like to be cold much more so than being hot. I'm a hot house flower of sorts. One that does much better not actually being in a hot house.
Maybe an ice fishing house with a small heater is more my style, save for not being real big into ice fishing.
One of the real bonuses of living in Minnesota during the winter at age 46 is that when your hormones start stoking the internal metabolic flames, you can just step outside and ahhhhhh… instant relief.
Of course, this isn't practical at 2:30 a.m., but I'm fortunate to live with a man who keeps the thermostat dialed way down low between the hours of Midnight and 6 a.m.
It's funny. I used to fight with him over how cold the house was at night. Back in my 30s. Of course, back then I would have picked a fight with him over his shoelace being untied. Still… time has shown me there was a larger plan at work: he was planning for my change of life all along.
I told my therapist about this, the idea of being grateful for winter and how it is a real plus for my perimenopause self to which she reminded me it wasn't too long ago where I complained to her that Minnesota was never a place I would have chosen to live.
Progress.
It's simply a matter of a shifting perspective, and I'm not just talking about some Pollyanna way of looking at the world, but rather, what am I grateful for instead of what I'm lacking for.
Are there things you've found a new perspective on over the years? If so, by all means, share.
