As if by magic, the lost pleasures of solid habit reappear on bad days: a reminder that even the lowest moods are only temporary.
The radio speaks louder; singing Christmas carols, telling stories, recounting lives.
Visiting parents' smiles are the smiles of both friends and family, warming through a cold mood.
Twinkling lights on the tree serve as a reminder of year-round love, joy and peace; the decking of our cosy halls being only one of many shared moments throughout the year.
Soup, in its simplicity, comforting the soul, nourishing maladies and bringing tastebuds back to life.
Swallowing up both chapters of my book and cups of tea, getting lost in worlds far from this one.
We do some things every day, every week, or even every year, without realizing how symbolic they can be. All it takes is a cold, lonely day in December when I struggle to get out of bed to understand more about the choices I make and don't make, and how important these can be when we need them.