'tis the season.

Winter is hard on me.

Yesterday was gray and cold and rainy, and I didn't have the energy to leave the house. Even with the prospect of seeing my amazing teenage ladies at Teen City and helping them with a zine, and the promise that I would be there to pay for a planner that one of them picked up for me, I just couldn't make myself leave. At the thought of that bike ride in the dark (at 4:30!) I nearly cried. So I stayed home, let Adam cook dinner on his own, and read in a little bundle in bed. It's safe to say I have a combination of S.A.D. and P.M.S. that does not mix. After a nice warm dinner of lasagna with Adam, I finally worked up the energy to go for a quick walk with him to the Swamee Mart to look for cherry pie filling. We came back with only beer. Regardless of our findings, it felt good just to be outside for a bit.

It's hard to not have a job. Even in an employment position, I still need help figuring out what to do and how to spend my time. Now, when there's nothing to do, I sometimes feel paralyzed. I putz around the house, cleaning things, doing load after load of laundry, and cook a lot of food. It depresses me beyond belief to watch my savings account drain away as I make three loan payments. All the while, I'm just waiting for the Villa to call me. It's somewhat excruciating.

But each day is a little different. Today I woke up early(er) and managed to do the dishes that I had avoided yesterday. I read some more, because Barbara Kingsolver is good to my soul, and then I made sure I washed my face and brushed my teeth (something I don't always manage to do these days...). I rarely shower every other day, but I'm less concerned about that. When I do it feels good. That's about all I care about.

Like I said, today has been different. After breakfast, Adam and I went to the library and the public market. I bought 3 acorn squash, a stalk of Brussels sprouts, two bunches of celery, broccoli and apples. Still nothing to make a pie, but I think I'll make it to the store before long for those cherries I've been craving.

The point of all this is that I haven't been well. Despite doing things to take care of myself, like going to yoga, continuing to ride my bike, eating good food and getting lots of sleep, I still am unsatisfied with the state of my life. And that in itself is puzzling, because I couldn't be happier to be with Adam. It just goes to show you that having a great relationship does not solve all your problems. I've always known that, but I hope my being melancholy doesn't make Adam think I'm unhappy with us. I just can't seem to get everything else in my life to feel as good. That's all.

And yet, today, as the sun shines brighter than it did the day before, and as I've managed to give it a good start, I feel as though there is still a bit of clarity to my life that I sometimes forget. I've got my Christmas music playing, I've managed to sit down and put my thoughts into words, and I've got some inspiration sitting next to me: a book from the library.

I checked out a book called The Urban Homestead, and though it has a lot of information I already know, it defines a general purpose of my life that is uplifting. I truly believe in urban living. I think it's easier to be kind to the earth when we tread as little of it as possible. I believe that we all need to reinhabit the cities and quit building massive beige houses surrounded by nothing--a natural world those suburbanites rarely explore. In the city there are beautiful big old houses that are waiting for multiple families to enjoy, including the one in which Adam and I live. There are spacious backyards--spacious enough for small gardens and bug hunting. There are buses and more and more bike lanes and walkable neighborhoods and natural food stores with more options for cruelty-free foods than your average suburban supermarket. And there are gobs of fresh produce on display in a dozen farmers markets around the city. There are cafes that you can walk to, parks that are just around the corner, and trails that remain hidden in the center of urban jungles. I know I'm mostly talking about Rochester, but I know for certain these resources exist throughout urban America.

It is exhilarating to think about the ways that Adam and I are urban activists. We are full-time cyclists, vegan animal rights activists, and advocates of natural and organic living. We have vermicompost and a rabbit who works as a composter as well. We have a garden that will be busy next summer, and we are growing some herbs and other plants indoors. Unlike Betsy and Charlie, we haven't gotten into preserving, canning and fermenting, but I'm hoping that will also come with the garden next year. I spend a lot of time making natural cleaning supplies that are cheap and smell like tea tree oil, not fake lemon-lime mixed with bleach. We buy our food at the farmers market or the food cooperative (though we're known to buy discounted soy milk and pickles at Tops). We go to a progressive, liberal church that values social justice above just about everything else.

All this is meant to explain that I'm very happy with the effort I put into every day of my life, and to reiterate (to myself) that I do a whole hell of a lot to make this world a little better each day. I sometimes forget that these things require mental and physical effort (especially biking in the cold) that can, at times, leave me feeling exhausted and disenchanted.

But I'm proud of the way I live out my values, and reading about the things I can do to make a difference revive my spirit in a way lasagna and snuggling under the blankets can't. I'm happy that Adam and I have time now to put our house and lives in order. I'm glad that I have a little time to ease into this next phase of my life, to relax and sift through old things and make a place for myself in my new home. I shouldn't be so afraid of having a blank calendar, and I should make the most of this down time.

Sometimes I think the only point of the winter holidays is to have something to cheer us during these long nights and cold days. It's amazing what some Christmas lights and music will do to my tired little spirit. The excitement of the first snow and the comfort of a warm fire ease us through these harsh months. Adding warmth and spice to out food and drinks mean adding pizazz to an otherwise bland winter spread. We know how to make it through.

My mom keeps talking about how we need to make our own traditions, and that we need to be responsible for things happening, since she can no longer be behind the magic. It's true that without my family's initiative, I'm unmotivated to celebrate and prepare for holidays the way I'm used to them. When Zoe told me she and Jack were getting a tree, I was shocked, because it occurred to me I hadn't given a thought to how Adam and I would decorate the house. In fact, I'm quick to write off the holidays as frivolous and not worth the effort. Sometimes it's too difficult to get past my divergent religious beliefs. But there's nothing like some holiday lights shining out onto the street to warm the soul. Adam and I noticed that when we returned home to see the one strand of lights he managed to get to work shining out through the dark night through our kitchen window. This really is a magical time of year, and I want to be a part of it.