We did not see the sun today. I don't know why this makes me so sad. Seasonal affective disorder maybe... or just some internal wish to feel warmth and see a bit of light in the midst of the year's longest days and this area's coldest weather.
Our plants are clinging to life in walls made darker by over-zealous paneling and shortened windows. My ferns lose their limbs hourly... dropping finger-like petals and snaking arms all over the floor. Turning from green and lush to brown and barren. Poor things.
I know I should love every season. Should look for nuggets of beauty and joy in each incarnation of the planet's myriad expressions as she pirouettes around the sun. But January and Feburary are tricky for me, and my mindfulness has fallen short this last week as my body seeks to outdo my good intentions with its complaints.
Wherever you may be, I hope you are enjoying your weather... your season. I hope there have been many joys and beauties in your path. And, if not, then I hope brighter and happier days are to come for you.
May peace prevail—particularly for those for whom concerns of sun or snow must seem like such small worries in times of suffering and sorrow.
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Flap, Flap. Beat, Beat.
Our little bird friends are back. Working furiously on nests tucked up in the corners of our front porch... perched carefully on top of pillars around the front of the house.
I assume they must be cardinals, and I have seen at least two families making preparations for winter... going and returning multiple times throughout the day with a strangely hypnotic and comforting rhythm.
Rather than being frustrated or worried about these intended winter sanctuaries, I am rather happy they've decided to return. I always look forward to seeing the little baby birds in the spring... their little scrawny heads wobbily and hungry with eyes shut and beaks wide, innocently open to the world as they wait for mommy to return with food.
I will miss this cycle and proximity to nature and her heartbeat. Perhaps it will simply mean I must look more mindfully from a new location in order to catch these small, daily miracles of life.
I assume they must be cardinals, and I have seen at least two families making preparations for winter... going and returning multiple times throughout the day with a strangely hypnotic and comforting rhythm.
Rather than being frustrated or worried about these intended winter sanctuaries, I am rather happy they've decided to return. I always look forward to seeing the little baby birds in the spring... their little scrawny heads wobbily and hungry with eyes shut and beaks wide, innocently open to the world as they wait for mommy to return with food.
I will miss this cycle and proximity to nature and her heartbeat. Perhaps it will simply mean I must look more mindfully from a new location in order to catch these small, daily miracles of life.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
A Sort of Stream
The cold weather today brought freezing rain and a shockingly chill day for so early in the winter season. We've been quite spoiled the last several years down here in southern Illinois; it will be interesting to see what this year brings.
I've been trying to keep my ears pricked for news of Hurricane Paloma (weird name). Thousands were evacuated as it headed toward Cuba, and though damage was sustained, it has not been as great as expected. No deaths or injuries have been reported yet, but it still sounds as if the aftermath from the storm will keep people out of their homes for quite some time.
It's so easy to get caught up in our own change of seasons and lose touch with the happenings in other parts of the world. As our environment shifts, so too does everyone else's... and that may bring joy or sorrow to other places and other people.
My husband, who is an astrologer (among many other things), says there is something big coming in mid-November. While I don't quite invest in astrology to quite the same degree he does, his accuracy in certain matters and my own experience with some aspects of it has led me to remain openly curious and to pay attention when he brings things up.
Whatever coming is big, and for those of us in the U.S., it may be financial in scope (i.e., more bad news on the economy front). For other countries, it may bring different challenges... perhaps these strange and powerful weather cycles will continue.
No matter what may arrive in your neck of the woods, may you be safe and find direction in the storm - be it literal or figurative. The changing of the seasons can bring up many emotions and signify many things (death, life, mortality, transformation, renewal).
In this moment, the impact of the marked transition into a new phase reminds me of the Buddhist koan that also connects back to the paradox of fleeting stability and ever-present chaos. However, I can't find it... so I'll turn instead to Albert Camus, who said roughly the same thing:
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
Be safe. Remember others. Stay connected.
I've been trying to keep my ears pricked for news of Hurricane Paloma (weird name). Thousands were evacuated as it headed toward Cuba, and though damage was sustained, it has not been as great as expected. No deaths or injuries have been reported yet, but it still sounds as if the aftermath from the storm will keep people out of their homes for quite some time.
It's so easy to get caught up in our own change of seasons and lose touch with the happenings in other parts of the world. As our environment shifts, so too does everyone else's... and that may bring joy or sorrow to other places and other people.
My husband, who is an astrologer (among many other things), says there is something big coming in mid-November. While I don't quite invest in astrology to quite the same degree he does, his accuracy in certain matters and my own experience with some aspects of it has led me to remain openly curious and to pay attention when he brings things up.
Whatever coming is big, and for those of us in the U.S., it may be financial in scope (i.e., more bad news on the economy front). For other countries, it may bring different challenges... perhaps these strange and powerful weather cycles will continue.
No matter what may arrive in your neck of the woods, may you be safe and find direction in the storm - be it literal or figurative. The changing of the seasons can bring up many emotions and signify many things (death, life, mortality, transformation, renewal).
In this moment, the impact of the marked transition into a new phase reminds me of the Buddhist koan that also connects back to the paradox of fleeting stability and ever-present chaos. However, I can't find it... so I'll turn instead to Albert Camus, who said roughly the same thing:
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
Be safe. Remember others. Stay connected.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
A little red flash of brilliance on a bitterly frigid day
Maybe cardinals were created to remind us that virbrant, colorful, quick, and playful beauty is possible in the midst of cold, nasty, SAD-prone, seemingly-unending winter weather. To encourage us to hold on a bit longer for the blessed arrival of spring... to coax a small smile from under coats-buttoned-to-chins and scarves wrapped tightly around necks to close out the icy, scratching fingers of Midwestern windchill factors. To remind us color is possible - bright like finger paint primary red - and the dull, achy, damp, plodding, grey sighs of February will soon enough come to an end.
Maybe.
Maybe.
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