Discontent.
Ennui.
Rawness.
That pretty much sums up the last few days. Winter has settled in, the polar vortex has sent a magenta chill through the heart of the country, and despite a relatively healthy start to the year, the excitement and thrill of such a change of pace has dulled to a drudge-like burden. Still, we press onward…
Maybe such a malaise is the product not only of the winter season, but of getting older in general. Forty-three years of anything, especially living, can wear away at the wonder of the world. I’m trying to forge inspiration and interest with a new project, yet even that is proving challenging. It’s all about getting in the right mindset and being open to what the universe is whispering. Winter winds simply make it more difficult to listen.
I do my best to center myself. Yoga. Meditation. Burning incense.
I seek quiet and peace in a long, indulgently-hot shower scented with rosewater and accompanied by a candle. Andy delivers a bouquet of flowers – tulips and iris – while a hyacinth bulb in a vase of water is finally coming into fragrant bloom. It’s the closest thing we have to a garden right now.
The White Flower Farm spring catalog arrived a few days ago. I’ve been earmarking pages with ideas and plans, and when I’m done I’ll pass it along to Suzie to see if it sparks her perpetually-put-off dream garden. They’ve got the land and space to do it, but they’ve also got an enormous black walnut that makes things tricky. A raised bed might do the trick; otherwise a bit of research on what plants won’t be bothered by the walnut’s expansive spread will be needed.
That’s how to get through these days: living largely in the mind.
Daydreaming of sunnier scenes.
Winding along the days of winter…
