Nine children sat in padded office chairs three sizes too big for them. The kids were lined up against a wood paneled wall, swiveling side to side in the tall black seats, their feet, in most cases, barely able to touch the floor.  A few waved nervously to adults in the watching audience. One twirled a section of her glitter-streaked hair around her index finger.  Such a setup could only mean one thing.

The County Spelling Bee.

For those of you who have never participated in a bee, or if too many decades have passed since your last experience, imagine yourself sitting with a group of your peers before an attentive audience. You are less than 12 years old and do not have the decades of wisdom and experience you do now.  You squirm in your seat and contemplate the task before you. During the bee, you will have to walk up to a microphone, listen for a word, pray it’s one you know, repeat the word, and then spell it, without the benefit of paper, pencil or autocorrect. If you are “lucky,” you will get to repeat this process several times.

If that doesn’t sound daunting enough, consider the complication of the microphone, sure to squeal with feedback at unpredictable moments. You step up to speak into its bumpy bulb, and with every sound you utter, you experience shock at the voice that echoes in the speakers. One that is too high, nasal, or raspy to be your own. The worst part: you must use the dreaded microphone so the judges can clearly hear your answer.

Yes, judges. A word that steals the spit from your mouth and twists your stomach into a pretzel.

A spelling bee is a valuable, but stressful, experience. Like any demanding situation, it can bring out the worst in any one of us. Insecurity and defensiveness might pop up without warning. But that didn’t happen at the bee I observed last week. Yes, kids were obviously nervous, taking frequent sips out of the bottles of water they kept at their feet. Yes, they released exasperated sighs when they heard the judges say, “I’m sorry, that’s incorrect.” Yes, they swiveled the chairs impatiently as the last spellers went through the final rounds of the bee.

But they also encouraged each other, giving high fives to spellers who missed words, offering smiles of reassurance. When the bee was down to two final spellers, the two remaining competitors went back and forth several times, spelling increasingly difficult words. Words that garnered gasps from the audience. For several rounds, neither boy could complete the task required to win the bee: spell two words correctly in a row.

But in all this tension, the mood remained positive, mostly because of the actions of one of the remaining spellers, a fifth grader. Every time his opponent spelled a word correctly, he gave an exuberant thumbs up. He seemed genuinely happy to see his opponent succeed. When the bee finally ended, and that same fifth grader won by correctly spelling two words, one of which was bubonic, he marched right up to his opponent and gave him a fist bump. Then he went down the line of office chairs, giving all the other participants a fist bump too.

We adults know that life is hard, that the stress of a spelling bee is nothing compared to the strain of paying bills on a tight budget, negotiating difficult work circumstances, or managing care of a sick family member. But maybe we would all fare better if we spent more time offering fist bumps in the “competition” of adulthood. A spelling bee may seem small to us, but the actions of that fifth grader were huge.

From February 11-17, The Random Acts of Kindness Foundation is celebrating Random Acts of Kindness Week. Let’s take a cue from the kids and #MakeKindnessTheNorm.

Thanks for being kind with me!

The day comes to its end, and as the sun drops behind the mountains, my energy plummets as well. Darkness mutes the colors in my family room, and a chill settles in the kitchen. I light a candle, then two more, and plug in the string of acorn Christmas lights I have not yet put away. With a deep breath, and an ache in my shoulders, I summon the energy to make dinner.

This is January.

I’ve packed up the holidays, and the thrill of a fresh start fades as the first month of the year comes to a close. I dread this season. While the days grow longer, they still offer barely ten hours of light. Faded yellow grass covers the pastures outside my house, and wind gusts from the west, rattling the windows. By 6 o’clock in the evening, I want to crawl in bed. The fatigue will linger tomorrow morning, even if I get a good night of rest.

Yet, I console myself with some bright thoughts.

First, I am not alone. I have friends who also struggle during the winter. In fact, there is a clinical name for the depression and fatigue that haunts many people in the winter months: Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD for short. According to the National Library of Medicine, SAD affects up to 10% of Americans every year, and more women than men. Notably, it’s more common in northern states than southern. There are treatments available, including light therapy, drug therapy, and cognitive behavior therapy.

What to Know About Seasonal Depression from The New York Times

SAD shouldn’t be confused with winter blues. Many people experience stress and mood swings around the holidays, and a dark, rainy day can dampen anyone’s mood. SAD is a clinical diagnosis, characterized by depression that lasts over several months and recurs over multiple years. You can read more about it in this article from the New York Times, What to Know about Seasonal Depression.

Even if you don’t have SAD, winter months can be hard. Here are some things I do to keep my spirits up and my perspective positive during these dark, cold months.

• Embrace the light. Weeks ago, I packed up Christmas, except for a line of acorn lights that runs across my mantle and the string of twinkling snowflakes extending across the archway between my family room and kitchen. Those stay out past Valentine’s Day. I plug them in each night by six, when the world outside grows dark. On rainy days, they stay on all day. I also love candles and am hoping to add DIY candle making to my growing list of hobbies. (If you have any tips, please share in the comments!) I’ve thought about getting a therapy light, like the one described in the NYT article above, however, so far this season I’m doing well with staving off symptoms. Some of my tricks include:
• Read happy, hopeful books. This is not the time for Beloved, The Road, or The Book Thief. (All books I started and abandoned in winter because they were too dark.) Currently, Ross Gay’s essay collection Inciting Joy sits on my nightstand, ready for when I need his unique phrasing and brilliant observations to cheer me up. (I heard Ross speak at the Virginia Festival of the Book last March, and he is even more delightful in person!)
• Spend some time outside each day, no matter the weather. Even 15 minutes helps. My three year old shepherd mix demands it, and so does my spirit. I’ve had to learn this lesson over and over again, but it’s finally sticking. Fresh air, even in the form of a brisk wind, wakes me up, clears my head, and improves my outlook. I’m fortunate to have the resources to heed the adage, “There is no bad weather, just bad clothing.” I have several pairs of lined pants, and the right hat covering my head makes even below freezing temps bearable, for a few minutes at least. I know not all people have this luxury, which makes me grateful, which also improves my mood.
• I practice yoga several times a week. This gets me grounded in my body and able to create space for positive thoughts within it. I’m getting better at using breath to control my mental state, and this is a powerful tool, available to me all the time, in all the months, whether or not the wind tries to curl under my front door. I enjoy videos on You Tube from Yoga with Adriene, Gayle Jann, and Yoga TX.
• Rethink winter. My son wrote a poem about his garden during the winter, and we discussed its theme: Everything needs time to rest and restore. The brittle stalks of dead pepper plants stand in soil that is resting and preparing to support seeds the next season. All life needs time to renew, and that applies to us humans as well. I’m learning to think of winter days as a blessing. If I want to spend most nights on the sofa reading, with a puppy curled up on my lap, that’s okay. There’s plenty to read and my body can rest while I nurture my mind. When warm weather arrives, I will have energy and knowledge to apply to the work that needs doing.

Winter comes each year, bringing short days and dark evenings, But when I consider it as a time of rest, a time to ground myself and nurture my needs, it becomes more bearable. Yes, I can go to bed at 8:30 with a book. Maybe that’s just what I need to be my best self come June.

Do you struggle with the winter blues or SAD? How do you manage? Share your responses in the comments. And if fatigue and depression are hampering your ability to function, seek professional help. I did, and it gave me tools to face each February and March with hope.

And please share your tips for DIY candle making! 🙂

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!