seasonality
“The wise man should surrender his words to his mind;
and this he should surrender to the Knowing Self;
and the Knowing Self he should surrender to the Great Self;
and that he should surrender to the Peaceful Self.”
- Upanishads
I have not written for a long, long time. I felt my words were done. So I rested. I took on other challenges and now there are new words. Maybe I am more in the mode of my peaceful self. There was so much anxiety, and now, on the other side of it, there is some peace. There is work to be done – much work. But there is also a sense of focus and new-found confidence in this self.
The election is behind us and huge political tests lie before us. The fear that gripped us gave away to the power of hope within us. For a moment, and in that moment, we were overwhelmed by greatness. Here, in Chicago, the energy was palpable. I cried. And now I dig my heels in and march into a future that has a renewed strength and ferocity to it. Let’s go!
The seasons have changed. The rank humidity of summer lifted and the crisp, refreshing dream of Autumn settled like a butterfly on a leaf, too beautiful and timid to last. Now the bitter bite of Arctic winds whip against my face, forcing tears to pool in my eyes, the generous application of moisturizer to my crumbly elbow skin, and the constant dream of having a remote starter for my car to possess me. Ah, winter.
In all of my many opportunities to live somewhere else, I remain here in the plains. Am I a sado-masochist? I think all Midwesterns must be to endure such blistering summers and blustery winters. Yet, I look forward to our first real snowfall. I like shopping for a nice winter coat. Hot chocolate only tastes its very best when your hands, face, and throat have almost succumbed to frostbite. And, what gives with high school boys wearing shorts to school still??? When did that become something that was okay with a daily high temperature of only 17 degrees? They are nuts!!! I can remember having a TA, an Anthropology geek, who only wore Birkenstocks – no matter what season. He would pull on a pair of thick, wool socks, with his ’stocks, and somehow manage the crazy weather of Champaign-Urbana? That was nuts! And me? I am just seriously opposed to hats. My ears might fall off before I put a hat on!
How did I get so far from such a powerful quote to this? Somewhere in Peru an ancient bronze bell tolls, the blue of the sky meets the teal of the sea, and a whispering Incan prayer sends an 82 degree warm breeze across the land.
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