indoor life

"Everything is subordinated to us, fashioned for our use and our pleasure. Egotism itself, which is so necessary to a proper sense of human dignity, is entirely the result of indoor life. Out of doors one becomes abstract and impersonal. One's individuality absolutely leaves one. And then Nature is so indifferent, so unappreciative." (Wilde, The Decay of Lying)

One is unable to perceive the changes that take place each day that charges towards the solstice. However, once spring comes, the ache becomes persistant where all we can think about is going outside! Part of me withers and dies during the northern winter. Like the trees, I become dormant. Oh how I fight the indoor life. By the time I am done my "duties" it is dark outside and I am exhausted from the lack of natural light. I try to fashion my home, to motivate and energize, to inspire, to ignite my desire for life. But nothing can motivate me more than the return daylight. I long for the days when I can become abstract and impersonal, as Mr. Wilde once said.

out of reach

He wanders in and out of my thoughts at this time of year. Like a shadow, a memory - there, but somewhat out of reach. There was a time when he was here. A constant comfort that covered me like a blanket of love and security. It feels so cold now. If I go to the place where I last saw him, it is quiet, and empty. Sometimes, when I dream of him I feel the warmth from before. Its almost as if I can hear him speak. He clears his throat, I am waiting, but no sound comes. It has been 13 years since he passed away and I still love him like it was yesterday.

winter personality

When the snow comes and covers each object with a blanket, something in me changes. I love the changing of the seasons, and so I put on my winter personality as each day grows colder. In years where there is not enough cold, I feel as though something is missing. The change of the seasons give me a marker of time to measure where I have come from and where I will go. My winter personality is the one that braces its self for darkness and cold. Winter is the time when I spend hours creating, beading on leather, painting, dreaming and planning. I also love to tell stories to my kids, and seek out the companionship of friends. I wonder if I would do those things if my world was constantly warm and bright.

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Does your touque make your head itchy?