At precisely 4 AM, I opened my eyes and immediately turned inward. It was as if I was knocking on doors in my brain, hoping that falling asleep early helped reorganize my latest writing project. I try taking a deep breath, but instead, I dive under the covers, hiding my entire body to savor the warmth of the bed.

As I continue to hide under the covers, my love brings me my yoga pants, sports bra, shirt and a fresh pair of warm socks. Aware that, more than likely, just as my sleep got good last night, the pair of socks he brought me before bed ended up stuck between the mattress and wall after I slowly peeled them off with the tip of my toes.

With cold feet, I rise from the safety of the warm sheets and begin to dress. I whine, wanting more cuddles before the chill of the wood floors hit my feet. Grateful for the clothes and warm socks, I reluctantly stretch my toes and dress. As I slip on my house shoes, my armor for playing “dodge the ice chips” on the cold wood floors, I am fully awakened by winter’s chilly alarm.

After sometime I remove my socks and make my way to my yoga mat. 40 minutes later, as I finish in Savasana, the doors in my brain open, gently spilling out organized ideas for my next re-write. I roll up my yoga mat, light a few musky incense sticks, and prepare to start my day.

Last winter, I found myself praying for the summer heat. When the hearty greens and last cucumbers took off in my garden and the heat made every room feel like a Sauna, I instantly began daydreaming of sweater weather and soft winter lettuce.

Today I won’t wish for the sun’s warmth but instead be present with the current winter chill, using it for introspection like nature does.

The fast shift from summer to winter can make anyone forget all the cozy winter plans they made during the unbearable hot summer nights. Instead of embracing the cold season that summer had us anticipating, we promise ourselves that summer sunshine would melt away our winter blues and push us to do all the summer activities we ultimately ended up not doing.

I was asked what would happen if I didn’t try to control my future. My answer was that I would be more present in my current season and savor the simple everyday moments of my life more.

Moments like sharing half of an open-face sandwich with some kale from the garden, appreciating fresh socks on cold feet, and enjoying my current breathing…when both shallow and deep.