Folding Inward

Bitter cold, a new schedule, and winter mean this gal has been introverting during her off hours. Saturday at 6am it was -4 degrees. I stayed in my pajamas painting and napping off and on all day. There were no long walks for me. The rest of the weekend had a few social components which were delightful and draining. That makes it sound like I didn’t enjoy them. I did. It just comes at a cost for me.

Bryan was the extrovert of the family–chatty, engaging, eager to make the party last longer. While I love people and entertaining, that’s not where I get my energy. My new job is great, but it has a very public-facing component which leaves me tired by 5:15 during the week and pretty exhausted by the weekend. I’m sure as I adapt, the tiredness will recede a little or I’ll have learned new techniques and tools to navigate.

Of all the seasons, winter feels most like being forced to eat Brussels sprouts as a kid. Yes, it’s good for me–to be reflective and restful, to look and fold inward. But does it feel miserable most of the time, too? Yes. Is it also a perfect excuse to stay indoors by myself? That too.

If I don’t write or post or text or call quite as often, it’s not because I don’t care or because I’m avoiding out of any sort of malice. I just don’t have a lot to say or the energy to say it. Just as winter doesn’t last forever, neither will the season of folding inward. But both are here for now.

And when I run out of words, I have paint.