Hello!
We did it.
We made it through another winter!
Hand me a trophy.
Bake me a cake.
Put me on a beach.
What an accomplishment.
I love winter—for about two weeks. After that, I’m done. If you’re around me between December and February, you’ll hear me muttering the same refrain: “If it wasn’t for the lack of light, I would be okay.” But that’s just it—there is no light, or at least not enough of it, and I am not okay. The days feel short and sluggish, the sun barely making an appearance before slipping away again. It’s as if the world is permanently stuck in early evening, the kind of dim, dull light that makes everything feel heavier.
The winter has this cruel ability to drain the life out of me. It seeps into my mood, making even the simplest tasks feel exhausting. It turns motivation into something I have to search for, burning the little energy I have to. Some tell me they love winter. I look at them like they are crazy. They try to defend the beauty of winter. I tell them I want to be on a beach and would prefer to never be in a place where it is less than 65 degrees.
The writer in me appreciates respects winter. It gives a season of stillness, a time when the world slows down just enough for reflection. The long nights and quiet mornings create space to create. There’s even something poetic about the way winter strips everything down, revealing beauty in the emptiness.
But if you ask me, Winter always overstays its welcome. As soon as the sunshine comes out I feel myself return to my body.
I feel alive again.
I feel ready to live again.
I feel like me again.
I begin to bloom.
The light arrives, and it changes everything.
With Hope,
Tanner
PS
Today’s poem is very short. Like, as soon as you start reading it you’re almost done short. Sit with it. When you’re done reading it comment how the poem made you feel or what stuck out to you. I always love hearing from y’all.
Blooming
From my book, Walk A Little Slower
I wonder what is happening that I cannot see. Something below the surface or beyond the horizon or between the questions and answers. A spark, a whisper, a prayer. And today I don’t need to know what, I just want to trust that something more is happening. To let go and remember the beauty of becoming, the joy of blooming. Trusting that small faithful steps lead us further than we could ever dream or imagine. And I imagine I'll continue to dream about what is happening that I cannot yet see. A hope, a moment, a breakthrough.
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"Trusting that small faithful steps lead us further than we could dream or imagine". Yes. This line is encouraging to me as I take steps on the narrow road.
And Summer saps the life out of me, I feel alive again in Fall and Winter! :)
"A spark, a whisper, a prayer."
I love winter, and the wonder of it. But what I love more is watching the world slowly come to life after the long cold has at last departed. A world breathing with "a spark, a whisper, a prayer".