I was feeling sick last week. Thing Two came down with a cold and I picked it up, casually, the way one picks out a Kind Bar in the checkout lane at Target.
No fever. No sore throat. Just a lot of mucus and feeling generally run down.
Thing Two started the previous semester like this. She missed the first week of school which put her way behind enough for the rest of the semester that she never entirely caught up in Biology. She failed it and, to her dismay, is retaking it this semester. Unwilling to repeat the previous semester’s folly (and biology or any other class), she is choosing to go to school – masked and socially distanced from her classmates.
I have up and down days.
One day I’m wiped out, in bed by 1800 and sleeping past my 0400 alarm, right up until I wake The Things at 0700. This makes for a rushed morning – not my favorite. I drive the girls to school in my pajamas and go straight home – not walking the dog in the morning after pick-up, as I normally do.
I try to catch up on schoolwork, but doze off while reading. I’m hungry all day; nothing tastes good. Unsatisfied, I eat again. I’m hungry, famished, for something food can’t provide.
The dog follows my every move with her eyes – hoping painfully, that she and I will do more than move from couch to bed to kitchen counter. My conscience is already loaded like potato skins, I don’t need the extra remorse.
But days of rest have been followed by bursts of energy. I look around the house – a bit disgusted frankly – how can we live like this? Everything feels shabby and neglected. I feel stagnant; so does my home. I’m sick and tired and sick and tired of living like this.
The weather has perked up, which helps my disposition. Sunny, cloudless skies. Daytime highs are in the mid-60s. Nights have warmed up to the high-40s so I’m not walking around the house bundled up like a glaciologist in Antarctica (have you seen natural gas prices?! Here, in California we are getting hammered!).
Yes, Phil from Punxsutawney may have claimed another six weeks of Winter this year but this week feels like Spring.
And that’s what Imbolc is – late winter/early spring.
I weeded on Tuesday. We’ve had an unseasonably wet January. Multiple days of cold drenching rain have been followed by multiple days of warm, sunny days. Nasturtiums have naturalized in San Diego; our canyons and valleys (and my backyard) pop with their cheerful, plate-sized leaves. The mint curlicues from the flourishing weeds. The cilantro sneaks past the grasses.
We tented our home for termites in October. All the plants along the house burned in the process. I’ve walked by their dead bodies for four months.
As I yank at blighted aloe, I notice new pups at the seam. I pop them off, tossing the larger plant into the greens recycling. Time for some freshness. Aloe, and the other hardy succulents I sprinkle in the newly divulged earth, can forge their way. More rain and cool temperatures are likely over the next eight weeks. I trust they will find a way to grow.
I’ve always loved weeding. Your progress is evident. Where once was a cloak of weeds, now is a blank sheet. You can resolve the issue in a straightforward manner with a determined and consistent effort. Your body works, undertaking the task, and in a short time, your results are indisputable.
I was here. There was a problem; I solved it. I’ve got the dirt under my nails and the sore back to prove it.
Golly, it’s satisfying.
If only other issues in life were that conspicuous.
It’s also a matter of timing.
Right now with all the rain and cool weather, the weeding is easy…so so easy. I blasted out two hours and weeded 75% of the yard. It rained last night with more rain scheduled this week, which means I can weed more this week and complete the task. I may need to go back a bit and tend to it a bit more over the season, but I’m ahead of the game and it’s not such a formidable task.
I proved I can handle my business.
That’s important for me right now because I’ve been sick. Lethargy coupled with my bum knee has kept me from my regular exercise causing me distress.
Exercise is one of the key ways I keep my anxiety, and my general mental health in check.
I’m aware, right now. I’m noticing. Since there is a disturbance in my body, I’m more attuned than I have been. I’m shaking the dullness. I need something more. Winter, with its gifts of attunement, intentionality, and conceiving, is adjourning. But not all at once because seasons don’t change like that – from one day to the next BOOM.
Shoulder seasons are gradual, like dawn and dusk. They melt and emulsify so that in some moments you don’t know if it’s Winter or Spring, Summer or Autumn. They are both and neither, they are shoulder seasons and they are powerful.
Powerful reminders of what we are, who we are, and how we change.
We change just like this. We notice dreariness or staleness in our life. We let in some light. We warm up to the idea of change. And then we take timely, specific action.
Then we go back. We discern. What is piled up? Where are the scuffs? What am I ignoring? Where do I need to get stronger? What dead bodies am I ignoring? Where are weeds smothering what I want to grow?
These are good questions to ask yourself in your notebook today or this week. Small emotions are breadcrumbs on the trail to your truth. Do you feel something about something in your home, closet, bathroom cabinet, or yard? Can you do something about it today or this week?
Something small, remember. Don’t overburden yourself.
We aren’t trying to eat the elephant all at once. We are trying to remove a splinter.
Baby steps, with encouragement and compassion. Spring cleaning doesn’t happen all at once. By starting the process now, when Spring arrives in five weeks, you’ll feel fit.