Minnesota winters can be rough. Not so much because of the actual snow and cold temperatures, but because of the endless days spent inside, keeping warm and dry. The season never starts out that badly; December brings magical fluffy snowfalls, January touts “Happy New Year” energy, but then we run into February.

FEBRUARY.

It’s like hitting a concrete wall after an amazing joyride over glassy waters in a fancy fast speedboat under a bright blue sky. A Minnesota February is somber and monotonous, colored by gray skies and even grayer snow. We rarely go outside, and when we do, we have to wear layers upon layers of clothing, covered by the ubiquitous long and poofy black coat. No one can tell each other apart. I’m not sure if I waved hello to my neighbor or a stranger last week at the gas station; it’s still a mystery.

No, I’m not a fan of February.

But, I’ll tell you a secret. As I get (ahem) older, I’ve begun to appreciate what these 28 (sometimes 29) days consistently bring into my life: TRANSITION and METAMORPHOSIS.

Mercifully, February does eventually give way to March, with her longer days and warmer temperatures.  And as soon as that first 40-degree day drops, everyone ventures outside sans poofy coat, to rediscover the thawing world. I’m always surprised by what I find. Without fail, whatever it is about the world I remember from the “before-February” time is never exactly the same as what I discover in March or April. 

Why is that? What changed?

In my opinion, very little.

It’s not the world that changes in those 28 (sometimes 29) days, it’s us. We change. Whether it’s purposeful or not, February’s harshness forces all of us inside and inward to take stock of who we are, what we need, and what we don’t. February can be a month of immense reflection and redirection.

Don’t believe me? Ok then. Let me share some personally transformative February examples:

During the month of February in …

1985 – I experienced my first “real” kiss.

1986 – I decided on a college.

1994 – I met my life partner.

2000 – I interviewed with my first medical practice.

2001 – I bought my first house.

2004 – I brought home my only child.

2015 – I started this blog.

2016 – I sold my childhood home.

2017 – I dreamed a business.

The funny thing is, I had no idea that these big events were so BIG until I was able to look backwards and see them for the monumental direction changers that they truly were. How could I possibly have recognized the bigger picture from inside my home and under a mountain of snow? I couldn’t.

I think that this February-induced life myopia is one of the harder parts to the month. You can’t identify a larger pattern and you have no idea where you’re headed. It’s hard not to feel like you are spinning your wheels to go absolutely nowhere, all day, every day.

I get it.

But I’m here to say that you are not an unmotivated indoor-dwelling stagnant slug. No. You are a trying-to-stay-warm-and-sane little fuzzy caterpillar, working tirelessly to craft her new wings. And even though you can’t see it, you ARE on the move. You just have to trust your instincts, follow your unique internal compass, and believe.

And so, here I am once again, hibernating through February. I am actively dreaming dreams and making plans; I’m remodeling and rebooting, I can feel it. But as in years past, I won’t know what the end result will be until spring arrives and I look behind me to see the path I’ve created. For now, I will simply remind myself that even small steps, when placed one after another, are progress. After all, winter metamorphosis is always best seen in hindsight, and the springtime sun is just around the corner.

XO,

MM