Feel Like Hibernating?

Me, too. It's one of those snowy days in New England when schools are closed and the outside's full of snowy possibilities. Or to stay inside, brew a cup of tea, grab a good book and enjoy some holy hibernation. Some sacred stillness.

Well, earlier this month, I read an article in the New York Times by Melissa Kirsch, entitiled, Open Season. (1/6/26) She wasn't an advocate for ICE, some of whom shoot citizens like it's open season on dear hunting in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She writes about the first two months of this year, January and February, which were not included in the original Roman calendar. According to her article, these two months were "an unnamed expanse of dark days, useless to the agricultural and military concerns of the state, which would recommence when the weather improved...the once-nameless winter days when society was off the clock."

Fascinating to think about, isn't it? The Roman soldiers retreated to winter quarters, which they called their hibernacula. Not sure how they used their time? Sharpening weapons? Grooming horses? Swapping tales? Then she raised an important question. If you had your own hibernaculum, what would you bring with you? What would you need to survive and thrive while you hid out, waiting for spring? The author wanted lots of sweaters and soup.

To be sure, while tempting, it's unlikely that any of us can hibernate for two months. But what if we took a day? What would we leave behind? And what would we consider a necessity to help us recalibrate, regain perspective, replenish a waning spirit, restore joy and hope?

"Tink" about it, as my Norwegian grandmother would suggest.

And if you need a laugh or two, here's from my sister, Chris.

"The human body is 80% water. What a huge relief to find out I'n not fat, I'm flooded."

OK, back to "tinking" about what to take with you in your hibernaculum. I "tink" I'll take Chris.

How about you?

No, you can't have Chris!