curtains of fog

Curtains of fog drift across the field blurring the trees along the road. Occasionally a puff of wind clears the fog for a moment but it soon returns. A steady rain (freezing rain maybe?) starts, beating the curtain down and I am left with an even more dismal view. Will it seem better when the rain changes to snow? Or will I feel more trapped inside.

But honestly, it’s all okay. I have a few lights on which give a nice glow, a pot of soup simmers in the instant pot (vegetable again), some old music is playing. It is warm and cosy and better yet I have nowhere to go in this soup. Carm is out visiting his mother, but should be home before the rain turns to snow. We’ll light a fire to further banish the gloom.

But day after day has been grey here and it is starting to affect my thinking, or at least I think it is. I don’t feel depressed, just meh, slow as if I’m entering a hibernation. And maybe I am, maybe that’s what I do in the winter and instead of accepting it, I rail and beat myself up over my lack of motivation. Maybe I’m quite comfortable to be all slow and sluggish, cuddled under a warm blanket, happy in a subdued way, or if not happy, at least content. But no, I feel that I should be, must be, doing things and since I don’t get going I call myself a failure and my mood takes a nose dive.

So what does all this mean? I think I’ll just go with the flow and see how it goes. I’ll be more accepting, taking the slow days as they are and enjoy the energetic days when they come. I’ll try inviting people for supper - it makes me feel cosy to cook a simple warm meal and then sink into sofas for more conversation. Going in the car doesn’t inspire me, especially if the weather is bad, but on a nice day a car ride is a nice distraction. Reading during the day is a special treat. I’ll try luring myself onto the treadmill with the promise of ‘just 10 minutes’ - that sometimes morphs to 20 minutes (and today 25 min!) - I can feel satisfied with that. I’ll find little tasks to give me a sense of accomplishment.

Then maybe I’ll get through the winter without the black dog.

And maybe, just maybe I’ll get something done in the house.