Don’t Wait for Spring

Build a Life Worth Living in the Colder Months

Every year, I prepare our home for winter.

I’ve written about it before—the little rituals of winterizing the house and making it somewhere warm and lovely to retreat to when the temperatures drop. I am, admittedly, very good at this part. Give me a stack of blankets, a stocked pantry, a few candles, something simmering on the stove and permission to stay home on a freezing evening, and I will happily turn hibernation into something of an art form.

But lately, I’ve been wondering why I put so much thought into preparing my home for winter and considerably less thought into preparing myself.

Because here in the northern states, winter isn’t exactly a long weekend.

The daylight starts disappearing before dinner. The garden goes quiet. The outdoor dinners, long evenings and casual summer plans slowly disappear from the calendar. Eventually, leaving the house requires layers, boots, scraping something off the windshield and a small motivational speech.

Staying home becomes very easy.

And listen, I love being home. I’ve written entire blog posts about making our homes the retreat of our dreams. I stand by every word.

But even I can admit there is such a thing as becoming a little too comfortable at home.

So this year, instead of spending the colder months waiting for spring to come back around, I’ve been thinking about how to make winter a season I actually enjoy living in.

One of the reasons I’ve fallen so completely in love with fly fishing is that it gives me a reason to stay outside long after summer starts packing her bags. It takes me into nature through the warm months and right into those frost-kissed days that seem to hang on for so long in the northern states.

There is something about pulling on my waders, adding another layer and heading toward the water when staying home would admittedly be much easier.

Summer practically pushes us outside. The garden needs tending, the evenings stretch on forever and the sun is still shining after dinner.

Winter requires a little more effort.

Fly fishing gives me somewhere to go.

And the funny thing is, the stream I know in July becomes an entirely different place when the temperature drops. The banks are quieter. The trees are bare. The air is sharp. There might be frost along the edges of everything. It makes me want to keep going outside just to see what changes next.

Now, I’m certainly not suggesting everyone spend their winter standing thigh-deep in freezing water waiting for a trout to acknowledge their existence. 😂

But I do think we should find something that keeps our bodies moving through the colder months—and preferably gets us outside once in a while.

Ski. Snowboard. Skate. Hike. Keep going for your run outside when the weather safely allows. Try the winter sport you’ve always wanted to try.

Or forget about calling it exercise altogether.

Make the snowman.

Have the snowball fight.

Remember how exciting the first real snow was when we were kids? You couldn’t get outside fast enough. You’d come back in with pink cheeks, frozen fingers, wet socks and absolutely no regrets.

Somewhere along the way, a lot of us stopped playing in winter and started complaining about it instead.

And I’m including myself in that.

I’d like a little more playing this year.

Of course, there are going to be days when absolutely no part of me wants to hike through the woods in twenty-eight-degree weather. And leaving the house doesn’t always have to mean embracing the elements.

Sometimes I simply need to change the walls around me.

Go read at the library. Bring your laptop or journal to a café and stay awhile. Wander around a museum on an otherwise dreary Saturday. Buy the theater tickets. See the matinee. Take a class. Find a bookstore you’ve never visited and spend an afternoon browsing.

Get dressed. Leave the house. Go somewhere pretty or interesting and be around a little life.

I think summer makes this easier for us. There are patios, farmers markets, gardens, golf courses, outdoor events and a million little reasons to wander out the door. Winter requires us to be slightly more intentional about it.

So I’ve started asking myself a very simple question:

Where is my life going to happen this winter?

And I don’t want all of the answers to be inside my own house.

I also want to get better about inviting friends along without turning every casual outing into an event requiring six weeks of calendar negotiations.

You know how this goes.

Someone suggests getting together. Six people pull out their calendars. Four dates are proposed. Someone can’t do Thursdays. Someone is traveling. Someone has a dinner. Somehow the coffee we wanted to have in January is now tentatively scheduled for March.

We have made this entirely too complicated. 😂

I love the idea of simply telling my friends what I’m already doing.

I’m going to the museum Saturday around noon if you want to come.

I signed up for this class Thursday night. Join me if it sounds fun.

I’m taking my laptop to the café tomorrow morning if you want to bring yours.

I’m going for a walk at ten. Bundle up if you’d like to join.

No elaborate itinerary. No rescheduling it six times if nobody can make it.

I was already going.

I’m going. Come if you can.

There is something wonderfully easy about that kind of invitation. And if someone joins me? Fabulous. Now we have a little outing. If nobody can? I still get my coffee, museum afternoon, walk or class.

Maybe we don’t always need an occasion to spend time together. We can simply invite people into the things we’re already doing.

And honestly, coming home is so much better after you’ve actually been out in the cold.

Give me the fire, the soup, the hot chocolate and the ridiculous cozy socks—but let me earn them first. 😂

I’m not suggesting we spend the entire winter outside, either. Some days I fully intend to stay home, read a book, make something good for dinner and enjoy the house I’ve spent so much time making cozy. I want the candles lit. I want something delicious in the oven. I want the blanket, the movie and absolutely nowhere I need to be.

I still intend to hibernate.

I’d just like to hibernate selectively.

There is a difference between staying home because it sounds absolutely wonderful and staying home simply because it’s cold and dark at 5:00.

And of course, I’m talking about the normal winter slump here. If you’re genuinely struggling with your mental health, that’s different, and a snowball fight or afternoon at the museum isn’t a substitute for getting the support you need.

For me, this is simply about paying a little more attention to the things that keep me feeling like myself when the days get shorter.

I’ve spent years thinking about how I want our home to feel during the colder months. I’ll winterize it. I’ll stock the things we love. I’ll make the beds ridiculously inviting and basically turn staying home into one of my favorite activities.

Maybe this year I need to put a little more thought into what gets me out of it.

I want a few things on the calendar that make me excited for a cold Saturday morning. I want to go fishing when there’s frost on the ground. I want to wander around a museum when it’s miserable outside. I want to sit in a beautiful café with a book and a very unnecessary latte. I want my friends to know where I’m going and that they’re welcome to come along.

I want to make the snowman.

I want to have the snowball fight.

And then I want to come home, pour something lovely, put on those ridiculous socks and enjoy every second of being inside.

Because I don’t want to look at the first frost and immediately begin counting down to spring.

I want a life for the colder months, too.