What’s saving my life in a strange season

At the midpoint of winter, we’re sharing the things—big or small—that are saving us right now.

We’re sitting at the midpoint of winter, entering what isn’t an easy month—or easy season—for many of us. To beat back the gloom, today we’re sharing the things—big or small—that are saving us right now.

The idea comes from Barbara Brown Taylor’s wonderful memoir Leaving Church. Even though most of us know exactly what’s killing us, it’s harder to name what’s saving us.

Once when Taylor was invited to speak at a gathering, her host told her simply, “Tell us what is saving your life right now.” She says it’s too good a question not to revisit from time to time. And today, we’re doing just that.

We’ve been doing this for years now, and my own answers to this question have varied. I’ve written about the small sips that are saving me, and travel advice as life advice. I’ve told you about jigsaw puzzles and Friday coffee and taking the long view. To my great surprise, I’ve waxed poetic about laundry. Over and over again, I’ve cited sunshine and long walks and good books and sleep as essentials for getting through these dark days.

Right now some of my reliably helpful strategies aren’t working, because this winter has been a strange one. A mild pre-Christmas illness settled into my lungs at the end of the year, and I’ve found myself in the disorienting state of being perpetually short of breath and often silent. Thanks to an adverse reaction to a medication that was supposed to make me better, for one terrible week I was unable to talk at all. I had no idea how much I would miss it, or how radically disruptive this lack would be for my family, friendships, and work. (You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, etc.)

I’ve spent a lot of time parked on the couch these past six weeks, because physical rest is both required and about all I can manage. As someone who’s relatively young and in good health, this has been a sharp deviation from my typical routine: sure, I love to crash on the couch—with a good book, to watch a movie, or just hang out with friends or family—for a few enjoyable hours on the weekend, but the hours-on-end part isn’t part of my regular life.

Nevertheless, sitting on the couch—A LOT—is what I need right now. And friends, it’s been uncomfortable. My couch is great and all, but I don’t want to STAY there. Not just because I want to stand up and move around and, you know, occasionally actually leave the house, but because sitting for days on end makes me feel guilty. I’m well aware that I’m a firstborn daughter, from a family of doers, raised in an environment that valued a certain kind of work ethic. I like to get stuff done; it turns out I enjoy being capable. But this had never struck me as a bad thing (I know, I know) until I was exiled to the couch.

Barbara Brown Taylor said most of us know exactly what’s killing us—and sitting on the couch, my lungs, my voice, watching everyone else carry the household load I usually help to shoulder? It’s killing me.

But this mid-winter marker is supposed to be about what’s saving us, so where is the saving in all this? Taylor says that can be harder to notice if we’re not keeping an eye out for it—and I had a conversation, just before things got really grim in my couch-sitting sojourn, that helped.

I apologize in advance for the giant cliché I’m about to introduce into the narrative with this next sentence, but, just before things with my voice really tanked, I went to therapy. I was struggling with my voice, but it wasn’t as bad as all that yet. I had to explain why I sounded off, why I had to pause often to breathe, but I could communicate well enough. I mentioned I’d been spending a lot of time on the couch, and my therapist asked how that was going for me.

I said it wasn’t going great, and my therapist said, “That makes sense.” And then proceeded to draw a connection between my couch-sitting uneasiness and things I’ve been talking about for ages in therapy that left me gobsmacked.

That conversation gave me a whole lot to think about, and also made it miles easier for me to sit myself on the couch without feeling horrible about sitting on the couch. I have thought about that conversation—and what it means for my forced rest—every single day since.

So for right now, at the midway point of winter: sitting on the couch isn’t saving me. (I suppose we could argue that it is, seeing as I need to recuperate and all, but never mind that for now.) But feeling like I have the permission to be there? I think that might be.

I may feel bad right now, but I don’t have to feel bad (read: guilty) about being out of commission. I’m learning how to rest. And I’m also reading A TON of good (and, sometimes, stunningly mediocre) books—and I don’t feel bad about that.

A P.S. of sorts, for things also saving me: competent teenage drivers, care packages from afar, watching Younger and Only Murders with Will on weekends. But that conversation feels like the foundation that’s making everything a little easier this winter, and I’m grateful for it.

What’s saving your life right now? Tell us below, or link to your own blog or Instagram post below in the comments section.

What’s saving my life in a strange season

At the midpoint of winter, we’re sharing the things—big or small—that are saving us right now.

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for every mood

253 comments

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Find your next read with:

100 Book recommendations for every mood

100 Book recommendations
for every mood