Cold air burned my nose. My throat ached from breathing it in all morning, even with the protection of my wool balaclava. I pulled in deep breaths, even as I felt the moisture in my nostrils freeze, each painful lung full slowly bringing me into presence. I focused on the discomfort, the ache in my fingers and toes, the bite of the air on my nose, willing it to bring me back to life.
January had felt bitter and stagnant. Long days in an office under too bright florescent lights. Corporate anxiety, overbudget, past due. Pointless, endless hustle cloaked by the dark of winter. Late sunrise, early sunset, still at work. Bottomless stress dressed in black and grey. I dragged myself to the gym most evenings, just to feel some sense of relief, to connect with my body again, to be able to sleep.
With a cold snap that threatened frost bite with even the shortest time outside, and a tall stack of obligations and responsibilities, I felt the fissures deepen. I was cracking, crumbling with the drudgery of it all.
For most of my life I’ve liked winter. I’m from the north, born hardier, a creature of the cold. I used to spend a lot of time in the snow-covered, glacier-capped mountains. Conifers draped in soft glowing frost is one of the most beautiful sights I can think of. Frozen winter silence is safety.
I used to rise long before dawn to climb mountains in the snow and slide down them again, immersing myself deep in the winter wild for long, cold days. My body was used to the slow, disciplined climb out of the valley, to ridge lines, to alpine. I knew the feeling of burning calories to keep moving, keeping moving to stay warm, staying warm to stay alive.
The world becomes much smaller on days like that. Life is simple, reduced to necessity and immediacy. You carry everything you need, and you bring no more than what is essential. You keep your attention on your surroundings, monitoring the snow constantly for any change that might signal instability and avalanche danger. The combination of sustained physical exertion and backcountry technical prowess becomes a beautiful, forced meditation. To let your mind be anywhere else is to miss the moment, and possibly endanger yourself and your companions. I used to flow between days of intensity and deep rest with a natural ease of seasonality. A night of heavy sleep and day of indulgent rest after these times was just what my body demanded, and I did not question it. There was no pressure to be achieving, be productive.
Lately I had lost touch. All the plates I’ve tried to keep in the air have started to fall. There seemed to be no end to the demands of my nine to five, and all of it was urgent. The little energy I had went into work and other personal projects. I had forgotten what I needed to generate that energy in the first place.
I was beginning to fear that this was the obligate experience of the rest of my life. I was to be trapped in the loop of exhausting empty work and hustle as a debt for my existence. This is “just how it is,” or how I was meant to “contribute to society” as so many people had been saying to me lately. So, my fear was compounded with guilt, with inadequacy, with a feeling that everyone else could handle this but me. Like I was incapable of something I “should” be able to do. It was beginning to get as dark inside as it had been outside.
That morning, I stood among deeply frozen trees high on a mountain ridge once again. The cold was not only palpable, it was visible. The air itself glittered and sparkled in front of me, subtly dazzling in the late morning sun. When the temperature is low enough, moisture in the air freezes into tiny ice crystals that stay suspended for a long time, catching the light. A simple process with an extraordinary visual result, dragging me out of my head and into the moment. Revivifying.
Winter is pause, death, sleep, and freeze. Darkness, slowness, cocoon. A time for hibernation, integration of the harvest of past seasons into flesh and blood, regeneration in preparation for rebirth.
My attempts to deny this had resulted in floundering depression. Grinding through the same patterns I’ve entrenched myself in with a stubborn tenacity unfit for a new life. My mindless ego has been checked by my real, animal body. I am not above ebb and flow of cyclical nature.
I am not the modern career woman I trained to become for so many years. I’m taking off that identity like a heavy old jacket, too tight shoes. Slipping free of my ties. Running like hell. Snow flying behind bare heels.
Maybe I’m not who I thought I was.
Maybe now I can just be.
I have spent my whole life feeling this way about work! It’s a bummer. It’s possible you could get a job that suits you better and be happier, but still it’s definitely not what I want to do with my life either. My whole life people have told me to suck it up, no one wants to work. I’m not going to say that to you. I’m cheering you on to find a way out of the 9 to 5 drudgery. People do figure it out and I bet you will too... especially if you keep writing! ❤️
"I am not the modern career woman I trained to become for so many years." THIS! THIS!!!!!!! I also am not the modern career woman I trained to become for so many years! What an empowering statement.
This letter felt like such a comforting hug when I got it in my inbox. It's a really lovely feeling to read sentiments that are so relatable and heartfelt, even if they're difficult (sometimes especially if they're difficult?). I've also been in a hibernation state the last few months, really a year in some ways. After getting long covid for about 11 months in 2022, I lost all passion for my job which bites when it's your own company haha. You're supposed to be madly in love with the thing you loved enough to go independent on... forever? It's been a long process of unpacking that feeling of self worth based on productivity and my career and focus inward. And it's taken a while. In some ways I'm still struggling with it all. Being able to focus more on writing and nature has been a huge transformation in my life. I'm also not who I thought I was, and I think it's for the better. I am also just spending time 'just being' with my partner and I'm grateful he's been encouraging me to 'just be' and focus less on chasing my career and focusing more on the things that genuinely make me happy removed from the capitalism grind. I can't say I'm entirely "fixed" or "Cured" from these feelings but I also am encouraging you along this path! It's awful to define oneself based on your career and I think breaking free of that toxic mindset is so healthy :)