In Anchorage, where the temperature hovers at a brisk 20 degrees on a Friday, and daylight dwindles to a mere 5 1/2 hours, the impending four-hour daylight span in the far north during December's darkest days seems daunting. Even in Juneau, the relatively milder Alaskan capital, keeping spirits high can be a challenge, especially as the sun often hides behind the mountains, leaving residents yearning for warmth and brightness. Aaron Surma, Executive Director of the National Alliance on Mental Illness in Juneau, attests to the mental health effects of these harsh months, emphasizing the persistent gloom even on clear days.
For those accustomed to milder Northwest winters, the conditions in Alaska might make them appreciate their comparatively temperate climate. However, as the notorious "Big Dark" sets in, Alaskans have valuable advice for those grappling with the seasonal transition: Go outside, even when the weather is less than inviting. Shane Iverson, General Manager for KYUK, the local public radio station in Bethel, recalls the difficulty of his first Alaskan winter nearly two decades ago, marked by an inclination to stay indoors and a pervasive sense of the season's lengthiness. His perspective changed when he began engaging in local activities, such as skijoring—a sport where a person on skis is tethered to a dog, another animal, or a snowmobile (referred to as snowmachines in Alaska). The thrill of increased speed combined with the serenity of quiet surroundings became a favorite pastime.
Residents of Bethel, like Amber Chung, found solace in community connection. She initiated a text message chain with neighbors, fondly named the "Dog Walk Support Group." The group announces when they plan to go out for a walk, and whoever is available can join. Chung emphasizes the dual benefits of exercise and social interaction, making the winter more enjoyable and fostering a sense of connection.
If outdoor activities aren't appealing, Alaskans have found indoor alternatives to stay active and engaged. According to Iverson, "Basketball is king," underscoring the significance of learning new activities to connect with others and beat the winter blues. As Alaskans navigate the cold and dark days, their wisdom encourages not just endurance but an embrace of the season, unveiling hidden beauty even in the harshest conditions.
In the vast rural expanses of Alaska, where large buildings are a rarity, schools take center stage, their gyms transforming into vital communal spaces. These gyms, according to locals, become a "convenient place for a lot of families and communities." Recognizing the mental health benefits of physical activity, particularly in combating depression, anxiety, and seasonal affective disorder, Alaskans turn to exercise as a crucial intervention. A recent systematic review in the British Journal of Sports Medicine even highlighted exercise's efficacy, equating it to medication in addressing depression symptoms.
An adage echoing through the North encapsulates their resilient mindset: "There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad gear." This holds especially true when endeavoring to stay active in harsh conditions. Shane Iverson advises newcomers to treat their winter clothing as they would their homes, emphasizing the importance of proper gear for staying dry and comfortable. This counsel resonates beyond Alaska, with the Northwest weather requiring its own set of protective measures, from ultrainsulated parkas to sturdy boots.
Amber Chung, navigating winter with a 9-month-old daughter, underscores the significance of experimentation to find what works. Recognizing the impact of winter on mental health, she invests in various carriers and layers to ensure that cold weather doesn't hinder her outdoor excursions. Chung emphasizes the role of nature in grounding both herself and her baby, noting the immediate calming effect of outdoor walks.
As a mental health professional in Juneau, Chung is attuned to the transformative power of winter on individuals. Acknowledging the tendency to slow down and hunker down during the colder months, she emphasizes the importance of self-reflection. For Aaron Surma in Juneau, recognizing the seasonal impact on his pace of life prompts proactive measures: stepping outside, engaging in exercise, or reaching out to friends. Their collective wisdom encourages not only preparation in gear but a profound awareness of the transformative potential of winter, fostering a resilient spirit that embraces both the challenges and beauty of the season.
Navigating the prolonged darkness of an Alaskan winter brings unique challenges, with the instinct to withdraw and hunker down contributing to a sense of isolation. Aaron Surma, reflecting on this, emphasizes that darkness itself is difficult, and the inclination to stay home alone amplifies the struggle, creating a palpable loneliness. In his words, "Loneliness is a bummer ... connection is the opposite of loneliness.
Alaskans counteract this isolation by fostering connections in innovative ways. One such remedy is the maqiq, a Yupik term for a sauna or steam bath. Diverging from conventional saunas, which typically reach temperatures of 150-175 degrees, the maqiq pushes the mercury past 200-240 degrees. Shane Iverson attests to the transformative power of this experience, describing the profound relaxation and peace that ensue. The aftermath is so rejuvenating that it leaves participants with a "steam-over," a state of bliss that beckons a day of leisure and relaxation—perhaps a brief hibernation to recharge the spirit.
For those less inclined towards steam baths, there's a final strategy embraced by both Alaskans and their Washingtonian counterparts: becoming a snowbird and heading south. Whether it's a tropical vacation to Hawaii or merely seeking warmer climes in the Lower 48, the allure of sunnier skies provides a welcome respite from the winter shadows. In this multifaceted approach, Alaskans not only confront the physical challenges of winter but also prioritize mental well-being through meaningful connections and moments of warmth, both literal and figurative.
In conclusion, the wisdom drawn from Alaskan communities sheds light on navigating the unique trials of prolonged darkness and harsh winter conditions. Acknowledging the inherent difficulties in facing darkness and the instinct to withdraw, Alaskans emphasize the antidote to loneliness lies in fostering connections. The Yupik tradition of the maqiq, a steam bath that transcends the conventional sauna experience, serves as both a physical and communal remedy, offering profound relaxation and a sense of peace.
The resilience of Alaskans is further evident in their ability to find joy in shared experiences, such as the maqiq, and in their innovative approaches to staying active in the winter elements. The notion that "there's no such thing as bad weather, only bad gear" encapsulates their pragmatic mindset, encouraging individuals to embrace the outdoors with the right equipment.
Ultimately, Alaskans showcase the transformative power of community and outdoor engagement in combating the isolating effects of winter. Whether it's through communal steam baths or shared adventures in the snow, the emphasis on connection emerges as a powerful counterbalance to the challenges of the season.
As the Alaskan winter unfolds, their insights encourage not just endurance but an active embrace of the season, inviting others to discover hidden beauty even in the harshest conditions. Whether facing the profound relaxation of a maqiq or seeking the warmth of tropical escapes, Alaskans exemplify a holistic approach to winter, prioritizing mental well-being alongside physical resilience.