"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant:
If we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."
Anne Bradstreet 1612- 1672 "Meditations Divine and MOral" l 14
This was going to be "Musings on a Full Moon Night" but I never got around to writing the blog last week due to a number of disturbances and distractions (pleasant and otherwise).
I have been in the mood to hibernate the last two weeks, partly because I've been fighting colds and coping with sadness. Last week I chose to stay indoors for several days, except for short walks. I focused on my writing and did a new chapter segment for my novel. I was on a roll, I t hought, and by Wednesday night decided I needed a bit of socialiazing, so I went out.
"With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!"
Sir Philip Sidney 1554 - 1586
Unfortunately, my quiet reflective state of mind as I sat enjoying a beer at my favorite hang-out, was interrupted by the arrival of a person who was clearly looking for a confrontation and I was her target. A very upsetting scenario resulted with said person heaping verbal abuse on me to the point that I actually felt as if she'd physically abused me. Needless to say the unexpected drama created by this lunatic drama queen upset my evening, brought a load of negativity in to my space which carried over to the next day.
"Demonaic frenzy, moping melancholy,
And moon-struck madness."
John Milton 1608 - 1674 "Paradise Lost" XI l. 485
I'd hoped to carry on with my writing the rest of that week but it felt like I'd been smothered with black sludge. Things only improved when I took a friend's advice and did a smudge ceremony to clean my aura. I used some sage from my village in Greece and swept the sage smoke over me with a macaw feather (didn't have an eagle feather handy). Felt a lot better afterwards and then spent the evening with two good friends eating pizza and popcorn and watching one of my favourite Christmas movies "A Child's Christmas in Wales."
The weekend was an improvement and I had some fun but didn't get back to the writing. I spent the weekend out in the town where A's daughter's live. They invited me for a sleep-over to celebrate his birthday which would have been Sunday. So it was a bitter-sweet time, lots of talking and reminiscing and providing positive support for the girls who are really missing their Dad. He was much more of a family man than I had guessed and spent a lot of time with them being Dad and Grandpa, only coming into town weekends when he played with the band at the L.Q. And being the first Christmas without him, it's a very difficult time for his family. Still, we ate nachos, dranks some Chilean wine and made a toast to him with his favourite Napoleon brandy. I'm sure he was there with us, smiling, and pleased that I have made this connection with his daughters.
This week I wanted to write but somehow have felt a lack of energy and spirit. I wish I'd feel inspired, but I'm not. I spent a whole day Monday putting together a photo album for my son for Christmas. Only went out to attend my writer's group that night. Tuesday made an attempt to go to waterfit, could hardly drag myself out of bed and got there late, but I did swim an extra couple of lengths to make up for it. I vegged out on the settee last night watching TV: an Ed Sullivan Christmas show and a special with Barbara Walters about "Heaven" which was very good and somehow seemed appropriate for me to watch under the circumstances.
So here it is Wednesday, Winter Solstice, and I am still uninspired and haven't written a word except e-mails, journals and this blog. Today I went for lunch with a very interesting woman from my Memoir group who paints amazing portraits. She's involved in spiritual healing and her paintings reflect this. It was something I needed, to sit and talk with her and I felt better afterwards. I was set to stay in tonight but another friend called and suggested we go out so we could talk so it turned into a pleasant night, with some fine jazz playing at the LQ and good conversation. (I find Ihave to keep occupied these days, even when I'm at home alone -- and I do enjoy my solitude -- but somehow when there's a lapse in activity I find myself in tears.)
I searched for an excerpt from my Celtic story to post here because it seemed appropriate for this Solstice night, but it must be buried somewhere in my files.
So here's all I can write just now. I'm feeling exhausted, sick and still very sad but the weekend's coming and it's Christmas. I'm sure, in the end, everything's gong to be alright!
"See, Winter comes to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad."
James Thomson 1700-1748 "The Seasons, Winter (1726)" l. 1