The bases were loaded, the pressure high, as ten year old Hannah stepped up to the plate. The pitcher called his outfield in and she licked her lips as the 6 degree air whipped her hair around her face. The crowd was sitting among their skis, sleds and snow machines as they watched her dig her front boot into the snow and prepare to meet the ball with her back foot. She knew she had to kick it between first and second base and take the sacrificial out to allow her teammates to score. She took her two approaching steps and anticipated the ball as it neared home base. This wasn’t her first kick-ball game on a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere. 

When I travel home to Texas, I am often asked about the long, dark winters that we endure in Alaska. I respond by saying how I find the darkest months are rarely the most difficult, but rather the spring months when your body is expecting soon-to-arrive green grass, budding trees and sprouting bulbs—all of which don’t come until May. The accumulation of the short days, lack of sunlight, and cold temperatures can make the spring equinox a non-event. After living in Alaska for eight years, I experienced my first bout of Seasonal Affective Disorder last spring. I had observed people sitting in front of light boxes at my local gym, and the sale of full spectrum light bulbs at the hardware store, but never thought that I would actually be S.A.D.  My spell of winter blues taught me about the depth of my love for this great state as well as the importance of listening to your body’s needs. I also learned that a few key changes can dramatically help.

I adopted what I call, “The Light, Love and Laughter,” therapy program. One of my good friends gifted me a light box, which now permanently sits on the end table by my place on the couch. You can find me in front of this light most mornings for about thirty minutes as I prepare for my day and read my Bible. I also researched appropriate Vitamin D levels.  After learning mine were low, I dramatically increased my daily intake of “liquid sunlight.”  From those two things alone, I began seeing changes in my mood and temperament within a few weeks. 

Relationships are necessary to experiencing love, so I reached out to those I love being around. Sometimes, I had to do so even when I didn’t feel like it. Like my momma taught me, if you don’t have anything nice to say, “Keep it to yourself.” This had translated into me “keeping to myself” from late November until early April. By opening up to those around me, I learned I wasn’t alone. I was amazed to hear that even some of the “ol’ timers” suffered during the winter months as well. One original homesteader told me, “Girl, you just need to get out and have more fun!” I took his advice to heart. Sharing a card game, watching a funny movie with friends at the local theater on Throwback Thursday, or having a small dinner party were just a few of the ways I sought to increase deposits into my love bank. A family snuggle fest in a living room blanket fort has become a monthly tradition. I also opened up to new relationships that I normally wouldn’t have taken time in the past to invest in. One of these relationships allowed me to make a new friend and complete my first half marathon. Through training together (sometimes this was done on speaker phone while both of us were on the treadmill), we got to know one another more quickly and on a deeper level.

To thrive during Alaskan winters, you must learn to meet life’s challenges head on.

One of the main ways to have fun in Alaska during the snow bound months is through community activities. This is a must when the snow isn’t right for skiing, the temps are too low, or you need to be around other people other than your three small children. Our local Senior Center is where you can find my family most Thursday nights. The salad bar is great and the opportunity to visit and serve older folks is invaluable for my kids. In Homer, Alaska we also have a vibrant and active Parks and Recreation program that offers everything from community volleyball, basketball, and pickle ball to square and ball room dancing, Pilates, a running club, silversmithing, and various support groups. If you haven’t played volleyball with a bearded set-net fisherman that wears his knee pads over his thermal underwear, then you are missing an opportunity to laugh.    

It was this same fisherman that organized what he likes to call a “cabin party.” On a designated day, a group of about ten families met at the nearest road access point and went either by skis or snow machine five miles out to a cabin that was built thirty years prior for moose hunting and youth group camp outs. The day was bright and sunny and the snow was perfect for cross country skiing. As the ski group took off, the snow machines pulling sleds full of giggling children came puttering past. Multiple trips were made to also transport coolers of food, firewood, and supplies. 

As we sat around the warm fire and contemplated life over cups of hot cocoa, I watched as the men prepared the field with cans of spray paint. Not much was needed to make out the familiar diamond shape and bases. Two captains were designated, teams were formed and a ball (that was now a little flat due to the cold temps) was tossed onto the field. It took a few rounds of stomping down the snow along the base line and between home plate and pitcher’s mound, but soon our field was ready. The game fell apart somewhere between the fifth and sixth inning and the score was highly debated, but some good times were had as well as several good belly laughs.

It was this day with friends, playing a game of kickball on a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere that I was reminded; happiness is a state of mind. To thrive during Alaskan winters, you must learn to meet life’s challenges head on. In fact, for many of us the long winters have become a hidden blessing. Most people take happiness and joy for granted, expecting it to just happen to them, and often it never does. By being proactive, we can create opportunities to enjoy life. Regardless, of what winter throws at us, it is up to us to generate happiness from within, and in doing so we are better off for the challenge.