Practices From the Inside Out: Now is the Winter of Our Discontent

Now is the Winter of Our Discontent

This has been a long, painful, sorrowful year and many of us have already entered the winter of our discontent.

The year has brought us to our knees. We feel exhausted and are looking for something, or someone, to inspire us. Most of us are not able to migrate right now and it feels like a good time for us to begin hibernating for a long, cold winter.

Our screens show us images of our friends and neighbors who are sick and dying. We watch disasters happen in real time, and then again in slow motion. Storms and floods, fires and famines have filled our year.

Some days feel like it is all too much. We need to hibernate by spending the day in bed wrapped in our blankets. Other days we start out strong but need a nap in the afternoon.

We have grown accustomed to winters full of enjoyable activities and presents under the tree. What happened to the table full of turkey and all the trimmings, even pumpkin pie? Where are the twinkling lights and the special candy and cookies?

This winter of our discontent holds loneliness and sorrow, pain and frustration.

We thought spiritual life was the antidote to all this discontent. It was supposed to be full of joy and blissful contentment and rewards, not the miseries of this year.

How do we find the line for weeping and complaining?

It has been a year of sadness and brokenness, as if it had fallen off the shelf and cracked into pieces.

Some of us are afraid and others are frustrated and angry. This miserable year overwhelms, mystifies and does not satisfy us. How has this happened, and why is it happening to us?

Surviving this Winter of Our Discontent

As confusing as it might sound, this year is not a punishment. We are not serving a sentence, waiting for it to be over.

I know a lot of people who put a great deal of energy into remembering what “normal” life was like and wanting to return to it. They believe the winter of our discontent is a result of how great life used to be and how much it has changed.

There were great and comforting things about not being afraid to talk with people and share a meal. I remember hugging and sitting with friends. Our first step in surviving this winter of our discontent, though, is starting where we are.

It does not help us to live in the past or deny the challenges we face in everyday life. There are clear, specific things we can do to help us live through this winter. I do not believe there is anything inconsistent with spiritual life about listening to medical experts and following their directions.

Some days our survival will depend on our flexibility. When we recognize our need to spend some time in hibernation, it is important for us to do what we need to do.

We will also have days when we need to talk with someone we can trust. For some of us it will be a friend or a member of our family. Either in person or remotely, we can find someone who will listen without judging us.

If you cannot find anyone else, contact me and I will listen. We can cry together and laugh together.

Winter can be a long and cruel season, and this winter of our discontent will be no different. Each of us needs to do what we need to do to survive. We help each other.

Spiritual Life and the Winter of Our Discontent

I do not believe the purpose of spiritual life is to rescue us from the winter of our discontent. It is not a way for us to escape difficulties or avoid challenges.

Spiritual life is not a helicopter or a lifejacket or a bulletproof vest. Many people filled with spiritual life have died this year.

I believe spiritual life is not a way out of this mess, but a way through. My experience of spiritual life is not a ladder I can climb to get away, but someone with me in the middle of the winter.

The winters where I grew up are more intense than the winters where I live now. I remember depressing grey skies, storms which dumped drifting snow and blocked roads, and cold temperatures.

Those winters are full of spiritual life found in reading books by a fire, hot chocolate, and spending time with friends. There is spiritual life in tobogganing and a good snowball fight.

Wherever the winter of our discontent takes us, whether we migrate or hibernate, spiritual life is with us. Each footprint we leave in the snow is a step into spiritual life.

The Winter of Our Discontent

This winter is particularly challenging for us, but we face winter every year.

Some are difficult, full of storms and conflict and obstacles. All we can remember of other winters are the bright lights, the parties, and celebrating.

Each winter has its own lessons, its own questions and insights to give us. This may be the winter of our discontent as we live each day one at a time, but we will choose what we remember and what fades with time.

There are winters which I did not fully appreciate at the time I lived them. Some of them taught me deep truths about myself, including what I could survive and how I wanted to live.

Our winters are full of time for reflection.

This year, as challenging as it can be, gives us a storehouse of things to consider and contemplate.

We could probably spend this whole winter of our discontent reflecting and learning the lessons of this obstinate year. Each day is filled with the ways we see each other, and see ourselves.

How will we transform this winter of our discontent today?

What will the winter of our discontent show us this week?

[Image by IshtarsKiss]

Greg Richardson is a spiritual life mentor and coach in Southern California. He has served as an assistant district attorney, an associate university professor, and is a lay Oblate with New Camaldoli Hermitage near Big Sur, California. Greg’s website is StrategicMonk.com and his email address is StrategicMonk@gmail.com.