The Secret to Loving Winter
This is an edition of Time-Travel Thursdays, a journey through The Atlantic’s archives to contextualize the present. Sign up here.
It’s January 1, and the self-help corners of the internet tell me I’m supposed to wake up as a matcha-drinking, Pilates-doing goddess of discipline. Except I don’t like matcha, my gym leggings are in hibernation, and my discipline is nowhere to be found. Outside, winter has the nerve to continue.







