It was a cold winter night twenty years ago. I was sitting in the living room at my sister’s house. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and the atmosphere was decidedly warm, cozy, and lazy — except for my sister’s rambunctious sons who were running around, wrestling with each other, and climbing all over everyone.
After a while, though, seemingly exhausted, one of her sons plopped himself down in my lap. I lifted my hands, and with my index fingers, gently tapped a drumroll against his shoulders. “Stop”, he shifted away, “it hurts”!
Perhaps he thought I was engaging in the kind of horseplay that they had been up to until that point. “It feels good”, I assured him, “it’s a massage”. “No, it hurts!” he insisted.
It took me a moment to realize… These five-year-olds were obsessed with the physicality of tumbling and climbing. They associated touch with the pressure of wrestling holds and the pain of pressure points…. They didn’t associate it with pleasure. At that moment, it dawned on me: massage is an acquired taste.
As we live our lives, we acquire many tastes. We learn to like kale. We learn to drink whiskey. We even learn to like raw fish! But there is one element of life for which many people have never acquired a taste, and not having it causes them grief.
I’m talking about a taste for cold weather.
The World is a Cold Place
Much as my five-year-old nephew recoiled from massage, many people recoil from the cold. You see it everywhere on a cold day — people hunched up and cursing the cold. It’s as though their defenses have been breached. “Stop, it hurts!”
So deep is their suffering on the coldest of days that many of these people sternly resolve to do better next time — next time, I’ll buy more clothes, next time, I’ll wear more layers, next time, I’ll take a cab!
But there are two problems with gearing up for next time.
First, by definition, cold weather is cold! There will always be a gap in your garment, a draft, or an even colder day. It is impossible to ward off every incursion. At some point, you will feel the cold.
And second, consider the mindset of resisting the cold. Your body is tense. You’re hunched over. There is only so long you can exert yourself this way — so aside from being cold, you’ll also end up exhausted. And on top of that, when you resist the cold, you walk down the street obsessing on how bad it is. In a word, You’re suffering.
Well, I’ve got news for you… being outdoors at 28 degrees feels the same whether your body is tense or loose, and whether you’re miserable or complacent.
Acquiring a Taste for Cold
So, how do you acquire a taste for cold? A starting point is to realize that, like massage, cold does not consist of one single sensation. In massage, there is light superficial brushing of the skin, deep probing of your muscles, and everything in between. There is something for everyone. When it comes to cold, there is also a variety of sensations, and some of them are quite exhilarating.
My favorite is that it simply feels good to breathe cold air. It’s refreshing, it’s crisp. Stop and taste it — for a moment, forget the rest. Cold air empowers you. It’s air conditioning for the soul! Even on the coldest day, when all else seems hopeless, you can stop, take a deep breath, and catch that same delight.
My second favorite cold weather sensation is that wind feels good.
To understand what I mean, imagine a sustained breeze on a summer day. Gentle persistent pressure that envelops you… It’s a massage, really. Well, I have more news for you — that same breeze feels just as good on a blustery winter day! Forget the temperature for a minute, and just feel the wind. Don’t tense up and resist. Stand tall, relax your body, and feel the blissful sensation as the wind billows around you.
People object when I talk about liking the wind on cold winter days. They are so eager to interject “what about wind chill?” So let me put it out there: wind chill is a myth. It is sensationalism that newscasters employ to boost their ratings, because saying it feels like 20 degrees is more dramatic that reporting that it’s actually 28.
Yes, there are implications of prolonged exposure to cold weather on a windy day — your body heat will be harder to maintain. But ultimately, temperature and wind are two distinct sensations. Twenty-eight degrees on a windy day feels just like 28 degrees on a calm day. And wind feels great.
Feeling Cold
Of course, breathing cold air and feeling the wind are just peripheral sensations. The most challenging part of acquiring a taste for cold is appreciating how cold temperature actually feels against your skin.
Alas, you would develop an appreciation for cold temperature just as you would develop a taste for anything else, through exposure, awareness, and insight.
Many people never even allow exposure to take place. Do you ever step into a toasty warm bus a cold winter day, and see people sitting bundled up with their closed jackets, gloves and scarves as if they were in the middle of a blizzard? These people are stuck in that primitive “stop, it hurts!” mentality. They are so terrified about feeling cold that they don’t realize that they are roasting. They are not keeping warm, they are traumatized!
It doesn’t take any special skill to build your awareness of cold. When you go out, simply note how the different parts of your body feel. And check in periodically — you will feel warmer as your body moves and acclimates. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself opening your jacket after walking a while on the coldest of days. Indeed, by doing so, you will be feeling the cold instead of guarding against it.
Boot Camp
One thing I started doing when I first started appreciating the cold is that, on my way home, I would open my jacket once I got half a block from my home. The idea was to allow myself to feel the cold, certain that, even if I was deeply uncomfortable, I could weather a half-block of exposure before I got safely inside.
First I open my jacket. I feel the wind and breathe it in, focusing on the dual sensation of breathing cold air and feeling the breeze. Then I explicitly relax, shaking out my shoulders as to loosen up and offer no resistance.
Exposing myself to the cold for that half-block has given me enormous perspective. The cold doesn’t move, it is not aggressive, and it isn’t painful. It is just the state of my environment. It’s quite comfortable, really.
A Taste Acquired
Just as my young nephew was unaware that massage could be appreciated, I see people every day who are unaware that cold could be appreciated. They have the overwhelming impulse to turn it off — “stop, it hurts!”
I implore you to relax. Cold is an acquired taste, but it is well-worth acquiring. It goes far beyond alleviating this impulsive sense of pain. It can open you to equanamity or even pleasure as you walk down the street on even the coldest day. As with any acquired taste, be it kale, or whiskey, or sushi, once you acquire a taste for cold, it stands to enhance your life forever.