February, the month of blue. When the light is blue. How the skies are peculiar shades of blue. The struggle of accumulation of shadow over the winters months, the thinness of the sun, the distance of the sun, the shortest month, but the longest month.
And even when the days stretch longer, it can feel harder, not easier. When spring seems so close, it is still so far away. We hover inside, looking out the window, looking at our phones, the link to the outside world. And yup, Blue light from screens is linked to depression.
Cape Blomidon Blue
Shadows fall on the patchy snow, when the dead grass seems dead forever, that the brownish yellow rotting bits can never grow again.
Now, after writing all of that uplifting stuff, ha ha ha ha, I share that I don’t normally get winter blues. I’m not sure why. My depression is not triggered by the seasons except perhaps a bit by autumn, which has always felt like the time when the grim reaper starts leaping about. While I’ve spent my life in serious battle with depression, fortunately, the winter blues have not been another layer on my own journey through blues and purples.
I’ve been noticing this week all the blue in my home. It’s a colour I associate with mystery and hope, with contemplation and with wonder.
Window Sill Blue
Purple is always the colour I’ve associated with depression and anxiety, all the shades of purple, the purple hour. But that’s for another letter. Spring will come. For us here in Nova Scotia, May will come and with it, the Blue Nose Marathon.
Blue from our treasures, blue in our homes, the blue outside, is a different kind of light, maybe a glimmer of a softer future, the blue which uplifts our circadian rhythms. Let’s head outside.
May you find hope in the blue, may you find peace in the blue, may you find spring waiting there for you, wrapped up in brilliant blue.