When the Light Returns: From Flooded Moors to Brighter Days.

I don’t know about you, but I’m sure many of us are now looking longingly for those signs that winter is on the way out. Walking the dog this morning under clear skies, with a chill in the air, felt all the more wonderful simply because it wasn’t dark. The headtorch can be packed away for another time, allowing the head to rise and the eyes and ears to be drawn to snowdrops, daffodils, and the resurgence of birdsong.

We are far from out of the woods yet, but after weeks of rainfall and the ensuing floods, my little corner of Somerset is looking somewhat forlorn.

What this does do is give me the chance to consider how this time of year might once have made me feel. I was chatting to a friend recently who said they couldn’t shake a feeling of being low and unmotivated. This was made worse by a sense of guilt. Guilt for feeling this way despite having a lovely family, a warm home, and a good life. We chatted for a while, and the notion of incongruent sadness emerged. It is a state where your external circumstances look good, yet your internal weather is heavy. This often leads to a layer of self-criticism and the inner voice urging you to snap out of it. It certainly is one of life’s lurking pitfalls.

As I considered our conversation while trudging along the soggy lanes, I found myself thinking about how I have managed to navigate these treacherous waters more carefully in recent times. As I have said before, I am certainly no authority on mental health matters. Even so, I do believe I have been able to build a few new habits that have helped.

Probably the most important thing on this list is accepting that you can only control the controllables. Affect those things within your power with purpose and enthusiasm, while understanding that certain things in life, no matter how annoying or frustrating, are out of your jurisdiction. The weather is very much at the top. There have been times when my displeasure with it has been crippling. It seems nonsensical when you look at it, but that was my truth.

Alongside this, I have made sure that, despite the lingering winter months being a slog at times, it is important to look for beauty in something every day. By staying curious and not letting the inner voice drag you into melancholy, it becomes clear that wherever you look, there is something to warm the heart or spark interest. This has certainly been true when observing the floodwater across the moors of late. It is important not to ignore the impact it has on the daily lives of those who live and work here. Even so, there are reflections to seek, views to embrace, and wildlife to observe as it spreads its wings across the flooded plains.

One of my mum’s most prophetic sayings is, “This too will end.” Four short and simple words, yet ones that are so very true. While it is easy to get stuck in a rut of negative thoughts and anxieties, the one certain thing is that there will be an outcome. The page will turn. Indeed, reaching my fifties has made me realise more than ever that wishing your life away is not the way to go.

Spring will come. The flooded moors will once again be adorned with wildflowers and grazing cattle. Hosepipe bans will come into force as many of us declare that we do not like it as hot as this. We shall long for fires in the hearth, frosty mornings, and comfort food.

In the meantime, take every opportunity you can to be compassionate to others, and until we wander again, be kind to yourself.