Facing My Cold Demons: Trolls on Ice

I always thought of winter as a haven for my thoughts, a time to take life down to its pure, cold silhouettes without the tempting distractions of color and growth. This year is different. I’ve been running from the cold. I’m taking multiple trips down to Southern California, am going to Palm Springs for my birthday, and planning to head down to Costa Rica this summer. The reason? There’s something I need to write that I’ll only have enough strength to write in the sunlight. Hot sunlight. It would kill me to stain white pages with those particular thoughts in the cold.

But dreams are where I lose control. Mine take me back to my Norse heritage, cold, dark trolls and helpless, small me. I decided I finally needed to face those cold demons in my conscious mind. I woke up early this morning and walked through the ice covered countryside. My lip quivered and my toes felt naked in my shoes until they finally went numb. I kept walking. The crosses of the grapevines, the mossy oak trees, the white grass of the hills. Winter became beautiful again.

I’m still running to the sun, but I feel freer now after forcing myself to see winter as it is. When my task is done, and the seasons change and another year is spent, the cold may once again become a cradle to my thoughts. This year I may need the sun to burn right through me and kill off all remnants of my heritage, but the day will come again when the cold regains more power in my life than haunting thoughts. And with this morning’s walk I hope that day comes soon, before I’m white haired and wearing a soft cardigan anyway. I’ll get to work.