Winter Blahs

Finally, a day with nowhere to go...nothing on the calendar.  Every Winter is the same in the Midwest--eventually.  Well, for example, today, the sky and the ground are the same color.  Were it not for the dark, sleeping tree skeletons on the horizon, it would be a complete white-out.  The sun has forgotten me today.  I wanted it so badly.  I wanted colored sky and a gentle breezy movement.  Instead, stillness...cold white stillness.

Two more months...really?  Of this?  Ugh!  Usually my cabin fever doesn't even start until February.  Another snowstorm is on the way---because the two this week already, apparently, weren't enough.  There's a foot of the white stuff smothering everything out there.  And it's cold.  It will barely get out of the single digits.  It might reach fifteen degrees.  So?  Once the dip goes below twenty, does it really matter?  It's cold...dreary...depressing...uninspiring...unable to lift my spirits; downright mean to me---hurting.

Entertaining fantasies of living, actually living, in a warmer climate.  I can envision a house.  There's sun overhead.  The only storm might be rain next week.  Plenty of time to be outside before it comes.  Walking, exploring, acting as if I don't have a care in the world.  It's warm, and too bright!  I go to the beach--lie on the warm sand. I search the horizon---not a cloud in the sky.  I hike up to the hills.  I sit for the longest time on a big boulder---wasting time---watching the world around me.  All the empty gaps and spaces in me are filled with gratefulness for these gifts.

We are creatures of nature...her offspring.  She is in control of us.  We cannot plead a case with her.  She has a mind of her own.  Usually, she is more compliant, but in Winter, she is not reliable or dependable.  Who is this impostor?  What has she done with my mother, my friend---the real Mother Nature?

Tomorrow, back to the show.  Acts I-II-III....work, eat, sleep, repeat.

I'll continue to search for the path to Spring.  It probably includes an attitude adjustment.  Can't do anything about it, might as well, just accept it, and find focus in creativity.  Do some internal housecleaning.  Meditate.
It's about finding the tools.

I used to be the Winter Girl.  I loved it.  It didn't bother me.  It was all the same to me.  The lines of seasonal definition were not important.  Now, just shoot me!  I have to go out?  I have to do what?  Come Spring....bring your bandages and ointment to soothe the winter blahs...find me somewhere lost in the the cold bitterness.  I am frozen...surrendered to the brutal headmaster.  Warm me, soften me, save me!