And by Dodge, I mean Boston. The Northeast and its Nor’easters. Winter depression.
Whoever claimed that you can’t outrun (or outdrive) your problems clearly didn’t experience abject seasonal affective disorder in urban New England.
Indeed, no matter where I go, there I am. And right now I am joyfully typing away to Bossa Nova elevator music while alternating my attention between the steaming mug of Teeccino chicory, the Spanish moss gently swaying in the Carolina breeze, and my QWERTY keyboard. (More on all of that later.)
If I can’t out speed racer my 99 problems (and SAD ain’t one), I can come mighty close, or delude myself temporarily that I can, at least until the vernal equinox.
The moral of this story, if it has one, is not that you should avoid your problems or run away from yourself. It’s more along of the lines of taking charge of what is in your control to create the life, environment, joy, and connection you can to the degree that you can.
I do that in many ways, whenever possible:
- Travel
- Movement
- Novelty
- Sunlight
- Mental stimulation
- Writing
One of the few books I downloaded for the five-week road trip taking me to fairer climes this month and next is Mel Robbins’ The Let Them Theory.
*Spoiler alert*: It’s all about letting other people (and cities?) do what they’re gonna do, and letting yourself respond as you choose because you can’t control anything else except your own thoughts and reactions. Pretty simple.
Let them ______, and let me ______.
That’s pretty much it, covered different ways in double-digit chapters over the course of 10 hours. My husband and I joked that we should make a drinking game out of the the book, taking a shot (or sip, given the sheer volume) whenever Mel says “let them” or “let me.” I jest, but the repetition is helpful, and drives home a powerful point.
For 5 weeks, I’m saying some version of “LET Boston be a frigid, salty bitch until late-April, giving me the cold shoulder. And LET me give it space and time to thaw and figure its shit out while I gallivant along the Atlantic coast, flirting with sunlight, hugging palm trees, brazenly flashing my bare ankles, and working remotely outside on a patio…because I CAN.”
After 15 years of an intermittently anchored life in Boston, and kvetching about my disdain for the dreary and seemingly interminable winters in New England, I have finally poured that scattered energy and grumpy cat focus back into some of my first loves: traveling, writing, meditating, lingering in pigeon pose, meeting new people, frolicking in nature, and absorbing vitamin D during some of the shortest days of the year.
The adventure started February 2, and I have been so enmeshed in each moment of the experience that I haven’t sat down long enough with QWERTY to share the experience. That will change in the coming weeks.
In the meantime, as I indulge some of those list items on this arbitrarily auspicious day of eros, here is my personal valentine to all of you. I encourage all of us to celebrate today (and every day) with the people, places, activities, and thoughts that create the most joy and unabated delight possible.
Cupid’s arrow can take many forms. Right now, for me, it looks like:
- Journaling
- Mangroves
- Dark chocolate
- A full tank of gas
- Friends and family opening their homes and lives to connect
- Audible books about relationships, letting go of control, and Tom Selleck
What are some ways you can feel love, express it, create an experience that aligns with your most joyful self, and live your best moment right now?
Astrid Lium 