I am what many people call a “freeze baby.” When asked how many blankets should go on the bed, my answer is always “more.” And I’m not shy about breaking out the space heater when it’s cold outside to give myself a little extra warmth. Put simply, I don’t like being cold and the winter months are tough for me.
Icy sidewalks, freezing rain, and sub-zero temperatures all make for a rather depressing mix. And it doesn’t help that the Sun is hidden behind an impenetrable wall of gray clouds.
When I lived in the city, the cure for my “winter blues” was simple. I buried myself in a pile of blankets on the couch, drank countless mugs of hot chocolate, and stuck my nose in one book after another until the weather started to become warmer.
But I live in the country now, and caring for my animals requires that I spend a few hours outside each day, regardless of the weather. My first instinct was to fight against the cold. I rushed to finish my chores as quickly as possible, and I gritted my teeth in frustration each time a cold wind found its way underneath my coat.
However, a funny thing about the weather is that it doesn’t change just because we want it to. And all of my ill-feeling just served to make my experience worse. Over time, however, my mindset began to change.
It started with me going to my local farm store and buying clothing designed for people who work in inclement weather—insulated boots, waterproof coveralls, a balaclava, and so on. An outside observer would probably see this as an obvious thing that I should have done from the beginning. And they’d be right.
However, I think there was a part of me that didn’t want to admit that there was a problem. Buying warm clothing was an admission that the cold was getting to me. For a long time, I chose my pride over being warm.
But when I humbled myself and started making decisions based on the reality of the situation, as opposed to my own personal desires, a shift happened. The cold didn’t bother me as much, and I found that I could stay outside longer without feeling the need to rush back into the house.
This caused me to notice things that I had missed before. One night, after feeding my rabbits, I stood in the backyard and just stared at the full moon. Another time, after an ice storm, I sat on the porch and watched frozen branches fall off of the trees one after another.
When I let go of my pride and admitted that the cold was a problem, that allowed me to work creatively to find a solution as opposed to gritting my teeth and bearing it or hiding away in the house.
And the process of learning to embrace the cold, to work with it as a natural part of life, allowed me to see the beautiful details that were mixed in with the cold winds and freezing temperatures.
Buddhism’s first noble truth states: “Life is suffering.” Often, Westerners recoil at that statement, believing it to be overly pessimistic. But I think that the Buddha was trying to remind us that suffering is a natural part of life in the same way that cold weather is a natural part of winter.
We can grit our teeth and pretend that our suffering doesn’t bother us, or we can close our eyes and pretend that it isn’t there. But if we allow ourselves to be guided either by our pride or by our fear, the end result is more suffering, not less.
And we miss out on the beautiful details of our life.
From the Buddhist perspective, it’s much better to tackle life’s suffering head-on, like a farmer walking out into a winter storm. This requires us to see the problem clearly and to decide that we want to do something about it, in accordance with the right view and right intention tenets of the Noble Eightfold Path.
After that, we must utilize right action and make decisions that alleviate our suffering without causing unnecessary suffering for others.
When we do this, the source of our suffering doesn’t disappear. Our boss is still difficult, the traffic is still slow, the winter wind still blows, but our relationship with these things is different. As a result, we are able to enjoy parts of life that we missed out on before.
Perhaps we realize that our boss is difficult, but we enjoy our coworkers. Maybe we sit in traffic that is slow, but we find a podcast to listen to that we enjoy. And maybe we check the weather report, see that it predicts snow, and start making plans about the snowmen we will build.
Namu Amida Butsu
Related features from BDG
Winter Reflections on the Nature of Refuge
An Ode to the Canadian Winter
Sensuality, Contact, and Attachment
The Most Wonderfully Stressful Time of the Year: Expectations and Consumerism During the Holiday Season
Embracing Sangha, Meditation, and Love in Hard Times – Wisdom from Thich Nhat Hanh
