from evy's notebook

Cold has fallen over San Francisco. The air is dense with the tiniest water droplets, and gusts of wind dance across the city. I hate it.

When I call my friend, he is draped in layers of sweaters and blankets, avoiding heating the air around him lest it carry the heat directly outside through poorly insulated walls and windows. I think back to Canadian winters: piles of snow as tall as I was, winds that hurt my face, nostrils freezing shut. I think back to that time I forgot my gloves and came home crying after a 15 minute walk from the bus stop because my hands were in so much pain. I turn on two space heaters.

I hate the cold. I would much rather be too hot than too cold. (Would you?) The cold tightens my body. It makes my muscles ache. It feels like I'm anxious, bracing for something awful to happen.

I love those spas with the wide variety of saunas, hot pools, and cold pools. When I visit, I spend hours gloriously submerged in the calm heat. Each time it becomes too much to bear, I rush towards the icy water but meet it with apprehension. I dip my toes in and grimace. I wade ankle deep, and my calves tighten as pain shoots up my legs.

"Think of it like hibernation," my friend once said. "When you surround your body in the cold, imagine it's slowing down your body for rest." Can I approach coldness with softness? Can I reduce the tension in my body by not resisting it? Can I slow down for a moment?

Today I'm turning on two space heaters.

❄️ related poem from a year ago

❓would you rather be too hot or too cold? share you opinions here