This is the time of year when we hear about “Seasonal Affective Disorder” or SAD. SAD is apparently also known as Seasonal or Winter Depression, and I have always wished there was a less depressing-sounding name for the phenomenon of feeling down in winter time.
This year, as we approached the winter solstice, and the shortest day of the year, I took up a practice I had started several years ago, when I realized the approaching darkest days of winter were making me worried. I was anxious about the long, dark days making me feel hopeless. As a way of coping, I started noting down the sunrise and sunset on a sheet of paper on my desk.
As so often happens in life, the simple act of paying attention to a feeling changed it. I found that noticing the length of the day, and noting how it changed, turned my worry into interest, and by the time the shortest day approached, I was kind of excited about it. I also found it pretty fascinating to realize that it is more meaningful (for me, at least) to think of this dark time as a season, rather than a single day. The days get shorter and shorter, the shortest day comes, and then they get longer and longer.
The shortest days of the year are both before and after the solstice, so by the time the winter solstice arrives, we are actually halfway through the dark days. Semantics perhaps, but I have found a lot of relief in that realization.
Last year, when I was surviving a pretty dark time professionally, I made myself a tiny book to record the days in. This year, I have a new job I love, and I was very busy and didn’t make myself a booklet. I thought I might forgo the practice altogether, but relented and found this tiny booklet, where I have been recording sunrise and sunset since November 1st.
Although this year I didn’t have the same need to comfort and reassure myself that the days will soon be longer, the act of recording the times the sun will appear has still been meaningful for me. Noting the passing of time is helping me find work-life balance in my job. I also just love knowing what I am going to do as soon as I sit down at my desk.
I have never been an effective journal-writer, but I do feel good about pragmatic, habitual writing like this. I guess it’s kind of like micro-journaling – is that a thing?
