TUMBLING DOWN

The outer world is all about falling: snow, snow off branches, fences leaning under the weight of snow, old sunflowers finally succumb to kiss the frozen earth. Pulling the blinds this morning to see the wonderworld of my childhood winters in upperstate New York brought joy, more joy than I've mustered for days.

I nearly titled this entry "Swale," for apparently between Christmas and New Year's my inner darkness, doubt and worry capture me, like swales do snow. One friend quickly labeled it Seasonal Affective Disorder ("Just a touch," she said), but I object. What better time for meloncholia, retrospection, self assessment and the good ole blues than now. Work is at a low ebb, kids are busy, my days are unstructured and perfect for meandering through the dark forest.

We need not be productive every day. The productivity myth so pervades my personality that when my husband comes home and asks about my day, I report all the things I did. Or, if I've only shopped, cooked, done laundry and straightened things up, I report I didn't get anything done! But during this dark time, I allow sloth to dominate: staring out the window, sleeping in, drinking tea with whomever shows up, returning to bed for a little nap, eating irradically, having a little nip in the middle of the day, weeping over "spilt milk," trimming my already-short hair, growling to myself over the woulda-coulda-shouldas...welcome to my world in mid-winter. That's another thing! Solstice isn't the first day of winter to me, it's mid-winter, the low point! By Equinox I'll be a downhill train with creative projects, seeds to plant and lofty expectations.

Should I take medications for SAD? I'd rather remember that this is reasonable, predictable and temporary, a matter of days, not months. I know in my soul that if I lived in a clan, our days and nights dependent on nature, we'd all be in the swale, sharing the fire and stories, holding babies, and combing each other's hair! A few of our hands would be industrious (the "ADHD" group!), but mostly we'd talk, nap, eat and wait for the earth to roll around a few more times to draw us out of the deepest snow, into the busy world once again.

For the moment, however, this Saggitarius is at her leisure, albeit guiltily, and awaits the chef, maid and chauffeur to appear to take care of her needs. And it's a perfect day for daydreaming: the snow hasn't stopped in hours, the birdfeeders wear their white caps, and best of all, it's quiet, gentle and soft. Just how I feel!

May you too put the tea water on, open the book from the library, let go of the worries, and appreciate this inner time of non-productivity and housecleaning on the inner planes. When you gaze out the window, awestruck at the incredible beauty, see the snow as Grace falling on the earth, to heal, to comfort and to nourish. And if the maid doesn't show up to shovel the walks, enjoy your own strength and flexibility. And if the chef doesn't make it, eat whatever you want! Soon enough you'll be trudging through your busy days without a backward glance!