I was out and about, walking the neighbourhood on this semi-sunny winter’s day. I’ll take a break from the rain where/whenever I can get it.
Home now – early afternoon and it feels like late afternoon, what with the “golden hour” glow. The days may be lengthening but it still feels like awfully short days.
There was a huge bear of a husky type dog parked out in front of Starbucks, and I couldn’t help myself – we visited. It’s ears and head were soft and smooth, while the rest was wiry and downright huggable. I’m glad it allowed me to spend some companionable time with it.
I’m getting ready to journal. I lit some white sage and waved it around the place, brewed myself a cup of coffee and I’m ready to start on some pages – or at least the first.
I’ve started with a quote from Thoreau (“There is no beginning too small.”), provided by Lisa Sonora Beam as the first of her free 30 Day Journaling Project. I have also sketched the three runes that I pulled the other day (kenaz, dagaz, nauthiz), as I contemplated this new year from its crest.
I’m feeling contemplative and feel the need to – well – contemplate. I’ve been out of touch with myself for a while. I need to reconnect.
I paid my rent. I picked up a bit of food.
It strikes me that I seem to appreciate things more when I have to consider (very carefully) where my money goes and what it is spent on. Like buying a mango-orange (because I’ve never had one before) and then cutting it up and savouring it, slice-by-slice, because I had to pull from the little I have to purchase it. I had to choose it in favour of something else. It’s sad that I must always be at the end of financial fluidity to grasp this… preciousness. Somehow, when abundance flows, the magnitude of my appreciation diminishes. I know that is my issue (perhaps not just mine but the world’s in general).
When I have, I seem to become desensitized and less grateful, or want else and more. When I yearn, I feel like I am missing out. But here, in this place of barely having but HAVING, there is the sense of fleeting and immense gratitude. Things taste better; feel stronger.
Again… if only I could hold this space when I am not so desperate, when abundance flows and I am still fully aware of the gifts, every single one.
Perhaps my chosen word for the year : FOCUS : will help me with this. Because focus connotes so much more than it’s meaning at face value and is applicable to much, from choosing projects, then working on them in a concentrated manner, to figuring out what I can contribute to the world and make a living from it, to… the delicate taste of a mango-orange rolling on my tongue.
I suppose happiness is not a constant – things ebb and flow and it is the way, but I think recognizing it when it’s there and holding space and appreciation for it when it happens, that is the key to it.
I mailed out the ‘holiday’ postcard I made as part of a mail art swap for a little online Facebook community of artists that I am a part of. I hope it arrives safely… and that the one coming to me also gets here alright. And since there is always a flip side to every postcard, this is the back side: May this holiday season bring you much comfort and joy. Adriane xo
The gently falling snow reminded me of this Vonnegut verse that my friend Kelly Kilmer shared on Facebook today:
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place. ~Kurt Vonnegut
Years ago, when I first moved out west, the oddest thing about the Christmas season was the lack of snow. Something about seeing coloured Christmas lights reflected in mountains of white show is… magical. Snow acts as insulation and alters the acoustics of a home, lending an already quiet moment that much more.. quietude.
Growing up I loved nothing more than to sit in our darkened living room late at night, the curtains to our front window open to the street to watch gently falling snow outside all the while admiring the juxtaposition of that scene against the beautiful multicoloured lights of our Christmas tree.
It took some getting used to, these snowless Christmases. Black is reflective when it’s slick with rain (which is often at this time of year), but it really doesn’t have that quality that reminds me of my days of yore.
Regardless, this is my favourite time of year, a time during which people’s hearts soften and they feel a little more compelled to think of others, and share their good fortune with others.
However you celebrate this time of year, I wish you all much joy and merriment — may the sweetness of these moments carry you through another year. Wassail!
Well… not much of a summer we’re having. I can count the number of sunny days we’ve had on hands, and I won’t bother with counting the rainy ones. It’s spitting outside (again) and I’ve finally decided to pull out my HappyLight and make my own sunlight. I’ve resorted to this for various reasons.
One is that my sleep patterns are messed up. I wake during the night, multiple times, and I’m exhausted by day’s end, which currently means around 8PM. I don’t know about you, but that’s not what I would consider following the “carpe diem” adage. Which really is my second reason… attempting to squeeze out maximum enjoyment from a 24-hour chunk of time.
So they say that a half hour sitting in front of this lamp will essentially do me, its 10,000 lux touted to shower me with just the right amount of sunny goodness to pull me out of my lackluster slump and slapping my cymbals like that pink bunny in the battery commercials… here’s hoping.