Surviving Winter

For as long as I can remember, winter has felt more like an opponent than a season. The cold bites sharply, days shrink quickly, and the long gray skies often dampen my mood. Despite resisting winter’s hold, I’ve lived mainly in a climate with brief warm springs and summers. Over time, I’ve learned that while I may never enjoy the cold, I can develop creative strategies to get through it. What began as simple coping methods evolved into a conscious, effective seasonal survival plan—centered on travel, socializing, physical activity, and small rituals that warm both body and mind.

Nearly twenty years ago, I found the core of my winter survival approach: a 30-day trip to Hawaii each year from mid-December to mid-January. I didn’t plan to make it a tradition; it happened naturally when I realized that temporarily moving to warmer places provided the psychological and physical relief I craved during winter. Hawaii’s gentle breezes, sunshine that feels like an escape, and the calm woven into daily life became my seasonal sanctuary. Thirty days may not completely avoid winter, but it’s enough to break its harshness and remind me that warmth, light, and comfort still exist when my environment doesn’t.

Even with this winter break, the cold waits for me when I return. To ease that transition, I aim to do more consulting trips during the coldest months—preferably in states where temperatures don’t trigger the instinct to stay indoors. Work trips to warmer regions serve a dual purpose: fulfilling professional duties and offering climate relief. Now, I see these trips not just as work but as seasonal lifelines—brief yet vital breaks that help me endure long, frigid winter weeks.

Travel alone can’t sustain me through the cold months, especially with daily life in New York continuing. Over time, I’ve realized that distraction—mainly through connecting with others—helps me survive winter. I try to socialize more, whether that means long dinners with friends, small gatherings, or simply spending time with people whose warmth offsets the cold outside. When conversations are lively, and laughter fills the room, I temporarily forget that winter is pressing against every window.

Another crucial part of my winter plan is reading. Winter’s slower pace allows me to dive into books I usually don’t have time for. Reading becomes a different kind of escape—one that takes me far beyond the cold without leaving home. A good book, with a bowl of hot soup, is one of my simplest but most comforting survival tools. Holding a warm bowl, inhaling the steam, and savoring the flavors remind me that comfort can be cultivated even in the bleakest season.

Exercise also plays a vital role. Even when motivation wanes as it gets colder, I push to stay active because I know the benefits: endorphins that boost my mood and give me mental strength through winter. Movement warms me physically and mentally, and the sense of well-being after a workout often makes me forget—at least temporarily—that winter surrounds me. Exercise has shown me that happiness, even in winter, comes from within when nature doesn’t.

As another winter approaches, I return to these rituals with the same resolve. I seek warmth wherever I can—on a distant island, in the sun during a business trip, in friends’ laughter, in a good book, in a steaming bowl of soup, and in the rhythm of exercise. Still, I remind myself not to rush the seasons. Wishing winter away too quickly is, in a way, wishing time away, and time is too precious at my age to dismiss. Even if winter isn’t my favorite, it’s part of life, and each season—good or bad—marks the passing of time I am fortunate to experience.

Every year, I refine my survival techniques, not just to endure winter but to live fully within it, finding small joys as they arise. When spring finally comes with its warmth, I welcome it gratefully, knowing I’ve survived winter, braved the cold, and found ways to thrive until the sun returns.