Author: EvelynKrieger

I'm a people watcher and word crafter, author of fiction and essays. I also blog on living the creative life during hard times. When not writing, I work as a private educational consultant. Special interests: dance, the moon, astronauts, beaches, poetry, staying alive.

Let There Be Light: 10 Ways Beat the Winter Blues.

In a previous life, perhaps I was a plant or a cat.

DSC07532.JPG

I crave sunlight the way I imagine one might crave a drug. I need my daily fix. I plan my schedule and location around it. I feel sorry for people who have to work in a windowless office or worse—under fluorescent lights that make my head throb. I’m suspicious of people who keep their shades down on a sunny day. 

Summer is my most creative and happy time. I love warm nights, wearing sundresses, eating outdoors, and walking on the beach. But one can’t live for 3 months of the year. 

Did I mention I live in New England?

Snowstorm.JPG

My natural high energy state begins to dwindle in November when the clocks change to daylight savings.Most people experience an energy slump during the cold, dark days of winter. Some, like me, have an extreme version known as SAD-seasonal affective disorder which brings on a  gloomy sluggishness. I can sum up my state-of-being with two equations:

 Cold + Gray = low energy and depressed mood. 

 Dark + Cold = hibernation mode..

 Where ever you fall on the winter blues spectrum, here are 10 coping strategies to try.

l. Catch the rays

Try to catch the early sunlight through a walk or window. This helps to wake your brain, regulate biorhythms and lift your mood. Right now, as I write this post, I’m in my favorite indoor sunny spot. Even when life takes a hard turn, I always feel a little better when sitting near a sunny window. I call this winter sunbathing. So open your shades!   

sunnywindow

2. Light Therapy

My doctor wrote me a prescription for a light therapy box. You can buy them online. I use one from Verilux. These are not sunlamps that emit UV.  These type of light boxes mimic outdoor light. I read or eat in front of mine for 20-30 minutes in the morning.  It causes a chemical change in the brain that lifts your mood and eases other symptoms of SAD. It can help your body clock synchronize with the day. This response comes from the light going through your retina, not your skin.  Some people use a dawn simulator lamp to help the get out of bed on dark mornings. 

img_5748

3. Sunny Images

My brain relaxes when it sees pictures of flower gardens, tropical paradises, and ocean beaches. I keep photos of happy summer memories on display. Try setting your screensaver to your favorite sunny scene. Listening to ocean wave sounds can induce a relaxed state, as well. Every little bit helps.

IMG_1828.JPG

4. Fly South   

I’m lucky to have family I can visit in Florida.  Soaking up the sun and vitamin D for a week does gives me an incredible boost with lasting effects.  I haven’t been able to convince my doc to write me an Rx for this, though.

IMG_1800.jpg

5. Keep Warm. 

There is a Swedish saying, “There is no bad weather, only bad clothing.”  Even though I grew up in Michigan, I realized as an adult that I knew little about how to properly dress for winter.  So I Invested in a really warm coat, leggings, sweaters, gloves, and boots. This helped increased my cold tolerance. I hate shivering.

6. Exercise 

No surprise that gym memberships peak in the winter. The cold days make you want to move less and eat more. My salvation is dance and working out at the gym. Consistent exercise anytime of the year has been shown to ease depression. And exercising in bright daylight may intensify the effect. 

 7. Get Outside

Okay, I’ll admit that this one is really tough for me to carry out. Fresh air is good for you. Even in the cold. Still, my friends know not to ask me to go walking on a grey day below 40 degrees. I should go, but I won’t. On these type of days, errands get put off and the gym seems too far a destination. My body tells me I must feed it chocolate. Give me a sunny winter morning, though, and I might just venture outdoors for that good-for-you-walk.

8. Mood Music

Upbeat and cheerful music lift my spirits and gets me moving when the couch is calling. Make a  Winter Blues Crusher playlist. Some of my happy favorite tunes are:  Glad You Came (The Fighters), Feel Again (One Republic), Come to Me (Goo Goo Dolls), and Home (Phillip Phillips).

9. Winter Sports

 I was an avid ice skater as a teenager.  Now, I admit the sport holds less appeal. I’ll go if my daughter drags me along. Still, if you can find a winter sport you love, like skiing or snowshoeing,  you’ll enjoy the winter that much more. (Just don’t ask me to join you.  I’ll be indoors by the fire.)

ice-skating.jpg

10. Surrender 

 “For everything there is a season.”  Wise words. Sometimes you just have to work on acceptance.  If winter is a hard time for you, figure out what can make it better.  Be kind to yourself. A Stanford University researcher who studied the residents of northern Norway, found that an attitude shift, or change in mindset, helped people feel happier during the long dark winter. This fascinating study got me thinking. Maybe this winter I will try to embrace the season, rather than endure it.

Want to join me?

So Get cozy. Build a fire. Enjoy a cup of hot cocoa. Make a snowman with your kids.

Wishing you a happ(ier) winter!

Chaya snow angel 12-13.jpg

Does Time Heal All Wounds?

Does time heal grief?

tile_flies_photo

“Time flies over us but leaves its shadow behind.”  ~  Nathaniel Hawthorne

If you have suffered great pain and loss, there is a good chance a well-meaning person offered this familiar consolation: “Time heals all wounds.”   

Why do we insist on repeating this phrase? Because we don’t know what else to say. Because there isn’t really anything to say. We want to make the person feel better—somehow. We, standing on the far shore of grief, are certain this saying is true.

Even with some inherent truth in this adage, I believe it is unhelpful to those in the midst of fresh grief. Such a person care barely move through the minutes of each day. 

When my father died suddenly and tragically, I could only see Before and Now.  I did not care about how I would feel six months into the future because I couldn’t imagine that future.  As an ambitious person who can get consumed with productivity and efficiency, I had to surrender to grief. I had to learn that recovery cannot be rushed along.

Even today, exactly one year later, I do not feel the passage of 12 months. The chronological movement of time did not heal. It is what happened to me during that time. I got therapy. I had supportive friends. I practiced self-care. I mourned, grieved, reminisced, and reflected.  All this contributed toward healing. The wound is still there, perhaps covered by a scar, but the unbearable pain has lessened.

Each grief is unique to the person who is grieving.

Circumstances of the loss matter, too. The loss of a child, for example, may never be “gotten over”. The worst thing you can say to a grieving person is, “Gee, it’s been X months. You have to get on with your life.”  Wouldn’t the grieving person “get on with her life” if she knew how?

Instead, it is far better to say: “I know you are suffering terribly and can’t see any way out. But I know you will get through this if you give yourself time to heal.”

Then offer your steady presence. Listen more. Say less.

Young woman, arm around another, comforting her

Time itself does not heal wounds. If anything, time may soften the sharp edges of pain. The grief process, unlike time itself, is not linear. Grief has the power to make you feel stuck in time. It has the power to narrow your vision so you can’t see a future.

Time can heal if you use it well. You have to take time to do the necessary inner work. The only way to get over grief is to go through it. There is no detour.

Losing My Words: Grief Amidst Graduation

I lost my father in a horrific accident.

Albert Camus Quote

This past November, I lost my father in a horrific accident.

The days and weeks following were filled with disbelief, turmoil, and trauma.  I couldn’t eat, couldn’t think, couldn’t write. The crushing grief took away my words—and that was devastating. Writing is how I make sense of the world.  I imagined that writing would be part of my healing, but I could not find any words to tame my anger and sadness.

I wasn’t even sure what day it was. 

The recovering perfectionist, take-charge, get-it-done, type of person found herself in a state of confusion and paralysis. I had no choice but to surrender to grief and give myself a big timeout. This meant putting aside writing projects and taking a break from consulting work.

But there was one job I couldn’t take a break from—homeschooling coach to my youngest daughter.

Audrey was in the midst of her college application essays and creating her art portfolio.  She had 10 colleges on her list.

As her homeschool supervisor/guidance counselor, I was responsible for all documentation, the transcript, curriculum description, as well as reviewing her essays. Now, my brain was muddled, my attention and energy compromised. I felt panicked by my inability to fully resume this responsibility.

My daughter knew how much I was suffering. Yet in the midst of our family crisis, she became a pillar of strength.  The years of homeschooling had prepared her for independence.

Audrey continued her studies and kept all commitments. She reached out to a mentor for help with writing the essays. She enlisted a team to assist her in finishing her portfolio film—all while I was curled up on the living room couch.

Gradually my brain fog lifted.  I was able to check over Audrey’s final applications and help her prepare scholarship essays. Miraculously, I watched the tasks on her College Countdown list disappeared one by one.

Jan 15th arrived and the final application was submitted. We were done. 

Winter. Spring. Summer.  

Now I have a homeschool graduate, on her way to college, who knows how to advocate for herself and problem solve. She faces obstacles and challenges with grit and grace. These essential qualities aren’t reflected in grades or test scores, but they will carry her far.

My words are returning.

The healing continues.

img_4671_27183425914_o copy.jpg

The Homestretch: On the Road to Homeschool Graduation

Tomorrow officially begins my daughter’s senior year of homeschooling. When I say “officially”, I  mean that she begins classes and independent studies toward her high school diploma.  In truth, Audrey is always learning.  This summer she played the piano, read, watched classic films, took Spanish lessons, wrote a film script, and created a screenwriting program.

Friends have said to me, “Now you can see the light at the end of the tunnel !”

Yes, we are on the homestretch toward graduation, but as I think more about that expression I realize it doesn’t quite fit.  I wouldn’t describe our homeschooling years as a tunnel.  There was nothing dark or long about it.  It was a multi-year journey that took us to all kinds of interesting places.  Along the way, I sometimes had doubts that we were not on the right (or best) path, that something would be missed.  Gradually, I let go of these uncertainties. My daughter’s happiness and engagement in learning mattered most. 

Audrey and I both miss the early carefree days of this journey when we weren’t thinking about transcripts, standardized tests, and college admissions.  In the elementary years, Audrey had lots of time to play, explore, create, imagine, dance, and think. (Not to mention, sleep.) We took so many wonderful field trips to art and science museums, historical places, nature centers, plays, concerts, and dance performances. Audrey joined other homeschoolers at zoo school, MIT science workshops, wilderness training, drama class, community service and Jewish holiday activities.

She spent a lot of time outdoors.  No homework, no grades in elementary years.

Audrey Plymoth Plantation

And the time flew by!  I really can’t believe we’ve already arrived at this place.

Now she’s finishing up her subject tests, visiting colleges, preparing her portfolio, and writing application essays.  She is passionate about her career plans. She knows what she wants to study in college. Keeping her goal in mind makes SAT prep more palatable.  As busy as she will be this senior year, there will still be time time for adventure and hanging out with friends.   

We kick off the year with a college biology class and then the annual Not-Back-To-School picnic.  

It’s all part of the journey.  I want to enjoy every moment.  

Yes, next June there will be light and joy mixed with sadness. One long journey ending—a new one beginning.

graduation-1426997-639x852

What I learned in 2014

timeforReview

I’ve already admitted that I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t reflect, though, on the past year. A day older, a day wiser–hopefully.  When you start thinking about all that happened to you in the past year–the good, the bad, and the ugly–you may come to see that you are indeed a bit wiser.  

So this New Year’s day, I asked myself: what have I learned in 2014?  

Without going into the details of how and when I learned these things, I’m simply sharing the list.  Maybe one of them will resonate with you.

  1. Family really matters. Make the time.
  2. Say the things you need/want to say to the people you care about. Now.
  3. If you’re not sure what to do or say to someone in pain, just listen to your heart and take a chance.
  4. Coffee dates are better than Facebook chatting.
  5. Learn to identify what is trivial before the trivial takes over your life.
  6. You cannot write the script for the universe.
  7. The only one who can make time for pursuing your dream is YOU.

I guess most of us already know these things deep down. It’s just that our daily clutter has a way of obscuring their truth.  Then we forget.  

 When you think about what you’ve learned (instead of where you have failed), the needed changes are more likely to fall into place. And to stick.  

So my only “resolution” for 2015 is to carry-over what I’ve learned last year.  That’ll be enough work.

What about you?  What have you learned last year?