We've had no snow yet, this winter. You know...I've mentioned this numerous times. Occasionally I'll get a little bummed about it. Then, I'm just grateful it's remaining relatively cold (still above average, though).
Oddly, there have been mild swings for what seems like a year now. The weather sites that track and forecast have a graph...for what's predicted and what actually happens. When I look at the graph for this area, the forecasts seem somewhat even day to day, only changing over time (unless there's a big warm or cold front coming through). What seems to happen, however, are these swings that just keep taking the temperatures up and down. It looks like a roller coaster. It's odd. Well, maybe it's not odd...I suppose I long for slightly more consistency.
On the sunny days, I can feel my mood shift. I get myself up and out. On the gray, rainy days, especially the cold ones like today, I tend to stay hunkered down and in. I remind myself it's still winter. I allow myself to dream a bit more. Needless to say, I've been dreaming about the garden for a while now. It seems that is where my creative thoughts converge. I was out yesterday moving around wood chips which was great. Today, I thought I'd hang the lights on the seed starting rack, but I'm sort of putting that off.
Interestingly enough, I'm not thinking as much about the garden today. Today other things are percolating in my brain. Art, social media presence, how I want to move forward this year in all creative ways. I need to pace myself with this inner dialogue, because I tend to auto-overwhelm! But still, I appreciate the energy it brings in.
The road to health and healing, to satisfying self expression, to a place of inner contentment, is a long one. There are lots of false starts and two steps forward one step back. I'm 64 now. For many years I've thought, "I'm too old to ______" There has been the weirdest feeling that my life was kind of over ever since my divorce and relocation. It makes no sense and intellectually I haven't truly believed it. Yet something deep inside creeps up in this regard. Last time I saw my therapist, she reminded me that I told her my dad used to always talk about being ready to die (not in a morbid way...or maybe being a kid I just thought that was something that was normal), ever since he was in his 50s. In fact, I think I remember the number 64 in his musings (his dad died at that age). He was always ready to "meet his maker." Anyway, it was interesting to think that I may have internalized this...and now I need to create ways to talk to this part of me with compassion and let it know it doesn't need to do what it does. I want to tell it that there is a lot more I want and need to do.
