SAD. Slowly as the light of the world dims, starting around about now, Seasonal Affective Disorder settles in for the long haul towards Spring. That’s April for the fortunate.
The leaves fall from the trees in profusion and at first all seems fine. It’s Autumn, the colours are brilliant – red, gold, orange, browns of every hue. But the sun rays are weak and for those who are prone to SAD need to supplement with extra light to keep away those all too familiar Winter Blues. For some the situation moves past feeling low to being more or less dysfunctional.
This post is for a friend in Canada who is heading into the SAD season vowing to keep up a regular meditation practice every day and to supplement with light each morning. One can get lonely in the low light time. Depression is isolating. Pain is isolating. Know you are not alone. I for one will be drinking in extra light each morning and offering merit for all who suffer.
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
Walking down from Wansfell into Troutbeck on Saturday, the sheep. The orange sheep. That way to deter sheep rustlers. ‘Don’t mock the flock’ repeated in my mind to the rhythm of my striding. No, Don’t mock the flock! I guess we are all part of a flock, one way or another.
Down on the edge of the Thames in evening light to visit an exhibition. Georgia O’Keeffe retrospective. Sitting on a step resting my feet saw the neon sign and then the artists write up (bit blurred). Left me pondering.
London is abuzz and it’s been a good couple of days. Notable was a visit to US Embassy for visa interview this morning. Even pleasant.
And I do wonder if that actually matters. The story that is. Four images taken at different times and places and all have much to say. Or rather I’ve, potentially much to say.
What they have in common is a path, one that I’ve walked and probably others too. All with their own unique tale to tell, even the sheep! That’s now faded into the past yet the images remain in my mind and they too will fade. Given half the chance.
The path though? The multi dimensional path, on the ground, in ones mind and where that path leads. Up a hill,….and there goes my alarm telling me I have to go and catch a train to London.
Somebody suggested to me the other day that walking was a creative act in that it is making manifest an intention. I’ve been doing quite a bit of creative work recently!
The following is from a chap who has just had a tumor removed from his brain and is now inevitably contemplating mortality and how he approaches the life he has left to live.
The story which seems to make more sense to me than at any time in the past is this one:
A man walking across a field encounters a tiger. He fled, the tiger chasing after him. Coming to a cliff, he caught hold of a wild vine and swung himself over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Terrified, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger had come, waiting to eat him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little began to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine in one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!
