To author Kari Leibowitz, the idea of writing a book celebrating winter was hilarious. Growing up in New Jersey, she refused to drive her little brother to school unless he preheated the car. This professed winter-hater went on to become a researcher and Fulbright Scholar at the University of Tromso in Tromso, Norway. Tromso is located in one of the most northernmost parts of the world, a place where the polar night lasts for about two months.
In addition to being affected by the cold, wet weather, dull, grey days, and the annoying task of scraping ice off the car windshield, our emotional health is affected as well. Leibowitz talks about the sluggishness and tiredness some experience; there is also the decrease in social activities, which can lead to wintertime depression that makes the season a dangerous time of year.
‘Winter Blues’ a Myth?
Leibowitz gets right to the heart of the matter in the first chapter. She’d arrived at this northern Arctic area assured she’d see signs of the seasonal affective disorder (SAD) that goes hand in hand with winter. On the contrary, studies showed that the residents of Tromso had “low rates of seasonal depression.” There was little, if any, evidence that the locals experienced an onset of the winter melancholy that plagues so many.
Could it be, as some believe, simply a popular myth? Based on that discovery, Leibowitz changed the focus of her research to focus on not whether the Scandinavian people suffered from the winter blues, but rather, “why aren’t they more depressed during such intense winters?”
To Tromso’s inhabitants, they saw winter as something to be “enjoyed, not endured.” They believed it to be a “cozy” time of year, or as they called it, “koselig.” The first hint of their winter embrace was the lighting of candles in cafés, restaurants, and home windows.
Rather than see the polar night as a time of darkness, there was a new appreciation of the illumination they did get, like the streaking and flowing northern lights, and the soft blue haze that Liebowitz noticed seemed to blanket everything in sight. It all came down to their “mindset.”
The Beauty of Winter
In addition to encouraging readers to rethink the season, the author provides doable practices to start the process. In the aptly named chapter, “What You See Is What You Get,” readers are given a series of easy-to-do exercises that cost little more than our attention.One example is “notice nature.” In her travels through this temporary homeland, she saw “pancake ice,” a term for the shapes which form when “moving water freezes into flat, blob-like pancakes.” Paying attention to sunsets for their extra vibrancy at this time of year or the sound of hail falling against the windows were examples of strengthening a positive wintertime mindset. We take photos of everyday activities, so Liebowitz suggests finding a winter scene each day and capturing it with a cell phone photo.
Holiday Lights
This heralded the time of day for reading, resting, and snuggling. This can also mean disconnecting from screens which disturbs sleep quality. The holiday lights that made the neighborhood feel “warmer and more communal” were kept up until March, a tradition the writer suggests should become more widespread. “It’s a shame,” she says, “that in most places, Christmas lights are expected to come down in early January, during the darkest part of the year.”
With Liebowitz’s insight and gentle prodding, readers will feel comforted that they’re not alone, and by the author’s own struggles, they'll find kinship. When necessary, she can be tough, like when she says, “If we remain cooped up, we will feel winter’s limitations.”
She reminds us to dress appropriately, repeating a common Scandinavian phrase: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.” She recommends headlamps to see in the dark and stretchable cleats for shoes when it’s icy. These are ways that she makes sure we’re well-prepared. When we’ve equipped ourselves for a winter walk and ignore the urge to sit at home, there’s sweet reward at our return: a hot cup of tea, and cozy slippers.
There’s a bigger picture at play here. Liebowitz shares that if one can change their mindset about winter, they can think of the other limiting beliefs that have the potential for change. When we can face challenges like an outside adventure when we’d rather stay on the couch, changes in other areas of our lives may become possible.
Winters seem to be shorter and shorter. In the final chapter “Protecting Winter,” she writes that “winter is disappearing,” although this is part of a normal climatic cycle. Her hope is that by encouraging people to enjoy winter, more people will “inspire more action to protect it.”
