Friday, December 5, 2014
Dreary Days, Or How To Hold On Until The Solstice
So some days it's better to stay off the internet.
These are the days when I look at all of the beautiful pictures and writing that other people are doing, then look at mine and think, "Why bother?"
These are the days when I feel an overwhelming need for stuff that I can't buy. That feeling ultimately isn't really about the stuff anyway. Still.
These are the days when I want to get in my car and just go, or go to the airport and just leave. Somewhere warm and without many people.
These are the days where it is getting dark at 4:30 and the skies are a beautiful dreary grey that nonetheless makes me feel like listening to Damien Rice or Ray LaMontaigne and sitting on the couch with a fluffy blanket and a never-ending cup of tea.
These are the days when I lose all touch with my yogic mind and begin to flagellate myself in the brain. This is a flogging that leaves no visible marks but is nevertheless very painful.
Everything is a minus. Every hill is a mountain. Every step is a trial.
Until December 21st, the light gets smaller and smaller.
Then the very next day we start to add precious minutes of daylight, little by little, until the ladybugs wake up and starting landing on windowsills and the grass starts to grow and the dogs start to itch because the fleas are back.
Right now I have to figure out how to float through this and just let it be whatever it is.
Maybe I will bake my way through it.
Maybe I will drink a lot of tea and read and sit and stare and twirl my hair.
What would you do?