(a pact with winter)

Tu as donc fait un pacte avec l'hiver: ce doit être ton destin.

My dear former French professor commented on a recent blog post. He said several lovely things in a homey language that seems far away to me these days, one of which was the observation "so you've made a pact with winter: it must be your destiny."

I think he's right, and I love the way he said it. I'm shivering in July for the second year in a row, on schedule to have another 7-month winter. I do get tired of rainy days and cold toes, and I'll have missed two Autumns, which is a bit sad I suppose. My skin misses out on the fresh air that my lungs enjoy and sometimes I'm just so over the hassle of layers. But my soul is much more at home in the winter, I've discovered.

Yes, I have always relished coziness. I get tired of layers but I love to have on a scarf. I miss wishing for a cup of hot tea when I'm dripping down another summer day; I'll often find myself just wanting to want to curl up under heavy blankets at night instead of keeping one leg on top of a thin sheet. In Chile, the coziness factor increases with the coldness--for an afternoon without central heating, there's the extra enjoyment that comes from standing near the fire in the evening. For the more frantic first chilly moments in the morning, there's a more extreme pleasure in holding a mug of instant coffee before starting the day.

I think that my "pact with winter" runs a bit deeper than just seasonal taste, though. I can't say why, but I feel more like myself when I know it's cold outside. If I have a heavy heart or serious matters to stew over, I'd rather it be winter around me--I feel more clear-minded, and more at peace about where I'm going. Sometimes just more at peace about having no earthly idea where I'm headed. Something about sharp, cool breaths and hard shivers makes me feel about as alive and ready as anything else.

You'll hear me complain about the cold, it's inevitable. But don't pay me much mind--it's good for me.