By Jill Roberts
The holiday season has notoriously been a difficult time of year for me. With the added chores of decorating and shopping, and the expectations I can put on myself, it’s easy to fall prey to a heavy mood. This year has been uniquely challenging, as a new empty-nester, I’ve had to let go of old traditions, and find meaning in the holiday season, which formerly centered around kids.
Like many others, the lack of sunlight is an added detriment to my mental well-being, which means it becomes even more a priority this time of year, to get outdoors during the daylight hours. In recent years, this has included getting out for a hike a few days a week, which was a proven solution for the winter blues. I know this; Yet, for the last month, I fell short of putting it into practice. Consequently, my mood turned heavy, and a bah-humbug attitude began to suffocate the holiday spirit.
The disruption to my routine of getting outdoors, came over the frustration of no longer having the convenience to familiar hiking trails. When I moved this past August, I relocated out of close proximity to my favorite hiking trails, which were also some of the best hiking in Connecticut. Although I went into the move headstrong, determined to find local places to hike, the more urban trails didn’t provide the same remoteness that I had grown accustom, and I was met with disappointment.
With change, there are often comforts and conveniences that are lost, but there are also many to be gained. By continuing to focus on what I gave up, I wasn’t allowing myself to see what the different surroundings had to offer. I may no longer live in an area convenient to the woods, but I had a whole city waiting for me to explore. I could either continue to compare the surroundings, and make excuses for why I was neglectful of self-care, or I could discover the goodness in what fate had provided. After all, the sun doesn’t only shine in the forest.
I reminded myself of 10 years earlier, before I braved hiking the woods alone, when the grey of winter prompted me to start taking road walks. At least two days a week, I’d leave my front door and head out under the bright sunshine. I soon discovered it was there, under the warmth of the day’s glow, that I could recalibrate to a more peaceful and pleasant state-of-mind.
Those road treks grew increasingly longer, until eventually my path turned into the woods. However, it was that first step out the front door that led me to a better mental space, and eventually to my love of hiking; And so, I decided to go back to my roots of walking the streets, and see where it might lead me, this time.
My new path offers a maze of neighborhoods, bustling streets, busy sidewalks, and a variety of routes to navigate. I stop at local establishments, to curiously to check out the offerings; and rest on park benches to watch the squirrels scamper, and geese flock. I make a point to say hello to everyone I pass; Yesterday, after exchanging “hello’s” with a fellow pedestrian, they commented as we passed, “I love your smile!” They shouted cheerfully. “Thank you!” I replied, as my heart grew three times it’s size.
I’ve discovered great satisfaction on the small imprint I can leave on a community, by simply spreading good cheer and a smile. Since, as the Grinch too discovered, happiness doesn’t come from our surroundings, but rather from within our hearts, waiting to be to be amplified, through our kindness and good deeds to others.