I’m sitting in my lounge chair nestled into the bay window in the family room. The fridge is humming and although the TV is off I can still hear the electricity buzzing through the cable box, which makes me want to move to the quiet cocoon of the living room.
But there is something about sitting surrounded by the outside just beyond the windows…being warm and dry while the rain pounds down outside. I glance to my left and am suddenly inside a painting; the colours of the trees so vibrant and alive I can hardly breath for the beauty of it. Not for the first time do I wish I could paint. I’d take a picture to show you, but it’s so warm and cozy inside and so wet and cold outside…you’ll have to make do with some I took a couple of days ago while sitting in this exact same spot, a spot that’s rapidly turning into my favourite writing space!
My view without the rain
Add a filter to enhance the effect….
The windowsill becomes my desk and viola!
And now that I’ve procrastinated long enough to muse, time to get started on writing my actual project….if only the words would stream down into me like the rain outside…
I’m sitting here in the chair by the window in the family room. Just finished a Whole Foods take out meal from their deli – stuffed acorn squash, asian cole slaw and sesame tofu. Bailey is nestled beside my son on the couch who, in turn, is nestled beside his sweet girlfriend. Everyone in the quiet on their laptops. Having Patrick come home for the night is a delightful surprise.
The weather has turned. Still not the relentless rain yet, though we wake up to that pressing down grey sky that seems to press me right down to the earth, making it hard to even get out of bed. The leaves are dancing off the trees and one has to almost carry an umbrella to avoid getting leaf bombed. Soon the rain will come and I will wish for these days back again. Until then the melancholy wraps around me like a grey cashmere shawl, somehow comforting yet constricting, like wearing socks in flip flop weather.
I can see the end of the year down the street waiting for me. October is usually one of my favourite months and I’m caught off guard by these restless, “what now?” feelings that thrum through my body. I’ve spent the last twelve months working intently within the paradigm of Caroline Myss’s Sacred Contracts and have come to the end of my Fate/Lock journey. Suddenly I feel abandoned in unknown territory without a map to follow. I’ve come to the end of the road but I don’t know where I am…..this is where faith and hope reside, quietly waiting under the stirrings of anxiety and fear.
I wish my east coast were here to chai with me. But then, I always wish for that.
I just came back from six days walking the streets in Chicago with my youngest daughter. That sounds wrong, but you know what I mean. Six days of uninterrupted time with my wandering daughter exploring a beautiful city was wonderful, but all that speed-walking has made my feet hurt and my legs sore. Small inconvenience for such a big payoff. We stayed at a small, gorgeous, bed and breakfast in the Lincoln Park neighbourhood – the only place we could find that had room when we booked months ago. We thought all the hotels were full of Thanksgiving Canadians visiting Chicago during the peak leaf viewing day, which is apparently October 9th. Turns out Chicago was full of marathon runners.
Sometimes life seems like one marathon after another and all we can do is put one foot in front of another. And sometimes, even during the seemingly never-ending run against the wind, there comes the beauty of the falling leaves before the rain. Sometimes the grey warmth of melancholy is a welcome interlude, reminding us of change. Joy comes in all forms.
Joy in looking and comprehending is nature’s most beautiful gift. ~ Albert Einstein