Cold Exposure

Almost a foot and a half of new snow fell last night. On top of what was already there, and we are up to over three feet, and it is a magical winter wonderland out there.

I’m a winter girl, and this is the kind of winter I dream of.

Every morning in the pre-dawn darkness, we bundle up and sit on our front porch under Woolrich blankets, steaming Sleepy Monk coffee in hand-thrown mugs from beanpole pottery, and read the daily offering from Richard Rohr. Later we layer up in Icebreaker merino wool, Darn Tough Vermont wool socks, Filson hats and Carhartt beanies, and down jackets from REI. We strap on our snowshoes and head out the back door for another adventure in the snow. Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, decked out in her red lycra full bodysuit from K9 Topcoat, dogs our tracks so as not to disappear beneath the snow that is higher than her head.

Back home it’s breakfast, more coffee, and a hot shower, followed by an ice cold minute to get the health benefits of daily cold exposure.

Like I said. I’m a winter girl, and this is the kind of winter I dream of.

Which is all well and good, except for the fact that I can’t help but think what a privilege it is to look forward to cold weather, lots of snow, and of all things, voluntary cold exposure. For so many of my fellow humans, cold exposure isn’t a choice. It’s a way of life when the temperatures plummet.

It’s taken me a long time to understand that a warm home, good food, and access to good stuff from brand name companies isn’t simply the result of a good work ethic and good choices.

Yes, they count for something.

But not everything.

In many ways, I enjoy an unearned privilege made possible by systems and policies that favor some and not others. I just happen to have been born on the right side of that equation.

It’s not wrong to enjoy the good things we have. In fact it’s wrong not to. But for this winter girl, I want to do what I can in the time that I have to work for a world that makes cold exposure a choice, not a way of life.