The days have shrunk to half their size. The grandiose power of the sun has been replaced by a weaker version of itself. The sky is grey. The Earth is balding.

Winter is almost here.

I have noticeably started organizing my activities around the waning daylight. The abbreviated days have placed me in a rather petulant, rushed state.

“Do things by 4 p.m. Otherwise, it’s all over.” I make sure I place myself under the clouds in hopes a UV ray or two will plunk me on the head. My sun-simulating lamp stands at the ready because soon, even 4 p.m. will mean it is nearly pitch dark outside.

It is hard to be productive when ever fiber of your being is shouting, “Why aren’t you hibernating?”

I am a light chaser. If I had my way, I’d live half the year in a very, very warm place. Warmth means sunshine, a rare commodity at this time of year in the Northern Hemisphere. I try to take things with humor, even as the dimness nibbles away at my well-being. I am like a wilted flower when the world turns cold.

Because I have chosen to live in cooler climes, I have learned to simulate light, not only in the form of lamps, but also in the form of food and connection. Vitamin-rich foods have felt the same sun I now miss, so when I eat them, I eat the sun too. Or I will connect with my sunnier friends, the upbeat ones whose inner light makes me want to wear shades.

And I am certain to turn on my own heart light, even when it’s hard and unfairness seems to rule the world.

Light dances between the shadows. If there is darkness, strike a match.

There is always a way to the better side of things. Sometimes all you need is a torch to guide you to that place.