It's still January, and I feel a heavy gloom like I haven't felt in a long time. Daily I point to the low fog that presses like a damp cloth on the grey streets that line the grey buildings that line the grey skyline. See? I say to myself, how could you not mirror the weather? I point out that indeed it has felt this way before. Surely we are meant to slow down, like down. All I want is to reach for a blanket, a memory, and a sweater. The word burrow and I want to crawl inside of it. I am looking for something to hold me.
I am clawing for something that will give this orb-like season a bit of shape. I admit that I've been sprinting through the last few months, making everything a blur, which has its consequences: I can't see the stagnancy and waiting as clearly, nor can I see what is soft and alive. So lately I've been trying to sit in the stillness and wait. I sit on the floor, catlike in a sunbeam, letting it be enough. I compose the abyss by making everything small and easy: write a sentence, anything I want. Make it silly, or even better, make it worse, we are having [something almost like] fun with this. I go for dinner and leave early. I forgive myself. I forgive myself. I try to forgive myself. I practice being kind.
Structure, when doled out restrictively, militantly. constricts the spirit, smothers the breath, and steals the joy.
Structure, when drawing a border around the vastness to make us feel held, creates a safe container in which we can unravel ourselves.
So, this is where you find me: taking a paintbrush and painting an outline around my morning, around this letter, around the journal I am trying to write in every day, around the movement I offer my body, around the afternoon that feels the vastest and unending of any part of the day, around the feelings I can't find words for, around the plans for February, for March, around all the questions stacking on top of themselves.
I paint around it all, saying, here is a shape, here is a shape, this is a shape, and that.
This is how I make a structure out of the fog. This is how I remember that I am here. This is how I make room for what will come. This is how I see the seasons as they come and go. This is how I make a home in January.
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This is pretty common for many people in January especially in the northern hemisphere with the colder days and lack of sunlight. Thankfully though there are brighter days on the horizon, figuratively and literally!
I really wanted to know what is the feeling of the people of northern hemisphere about sunlight or the warmth.