I may never have been really cold until my first winter in Northern Virginia. I remember me and my family going down to the White House Christmas Tree, one night near Christmas 1984, and the D.C. area can get bone-biting cold in the winter. (Yes, it's no Midwestern winter, let alone Canadian or Arctic in its intensity, but I have to go with my own experience.) I was bundled, maybe not adequately, against the cold, but the cold and the dark -- even in a brightly-lit place like the D.C. Monumental Core, even with that place even more lit up for Christmas -- made me imagine cocooning. Getting under blankets to warm up. Or getting into a warm shower. A very warm shower.
I keep moving at times like that, because of course movement helps with warmth. Movement doesn't help so much when you're trying to stay warm when bundled up in bed or in the shower, because there's little space. Those places have different ways for dealing with cold.
But it also means that sometimes when I'm in a warm shower, I start remembering that cold. And risk feeling cold even in a warm shower.
As if I need more evidence that the mind and the memory are powerful things...