Winter finally arrived in our fair river valley in the form of a harsh and deadly freeze which assaulted most of the eastern half of this country over the holiday season.
Occasionally, I’d glance at the temperature gauge in our car and see a number hovering around or below zero. With the biting wind, it often seemed colder.
Our three dogs were not keen on going outside to do any amount of business, especially the smallest of them who found herself at the veterinarian with a nasty bout of colitis which may or may not have been related to cold weather issues and, ahem, business or lack thereof.
And yet, we soldiered through. Fortunately for the human beans in this pack of ours, we could don coats and boots and we did manage to spend some time outside, in spite of the deadly temperatures. And it was lovely indeed.
“We must go out and re-ally ourselves to Nature every day… even every winter day. I am sensible that I am imbibing health when I open my mouth to the wind. Staying in the house breeds a sort of insanity always.” ~H.D. Thoreau (via Brainpickings)
One particularly brisk day I attended a winter plant walk to see what we could see. I learned a lot, procured some mushroom tonic which I believe helped me shake a head cold, and met a new friend as well.
Oh to have an alpaca coat in this cold clime! We had a lovely conversation and I was whispered many alpaca secrets that morning.
Eventually, we were treated to a bit of a thaw, as we are wont to do here in Ohio being neither North nor South. It is nice to breathe cool air instead of gasping at the cold.
This winter has been so very different from the last. I look back at last winter’s blog posts and feel the fragility and desperation of a self barely holding on, riddled with illness – in both body and spirit – and a palpable malaise in front of which only the act of writing could keep me.
This winter, today, now, things are lighter. I approach this harsh world with a new foundation forged of the groundedness which yoga practice, healthy eating and the like have afforded me. I am deeply grateful. The other day at in meditation class we learned that the idea of mindfulness, which everyone goes on about in this day and age, is actually a bit of a mistranslation from East to West. That a more fitting way to put the notion is that of heartfulness.
I found this idea quite captivating and found myself ruminating upon it long after our hour together as a group. What if, when we begin the spinning sensation of uncontrollable thinking – “good” or “bad” (light or shadow) – we might just go and curl up in our heartspace for a bit? The space where kindness dwells. The space where we are beyond judgement. We are so very hard on ourselves, aren’t we? When we think dark thoughts, or lose our patience or don’t live up to some constant standard we hold ourselves to. What if we could just let these human tendencies come, and quietly, without judgement, let them go? With a full heart.
This notion is not a new one, I am sure. I am not one for labels or for following one particular tradition or spiritual path. But this idea of heartfulness over mindfulness really makes sense to me. And it’s nice for things to make sense now and again, isn’t it?
There is much brewing here in the studio, amidst all of the bothers of the day to day, and the workings of the day job. Following the lead of my friend Kevin Necessary (amazing illustrator and official cartoonist at our local WCPO) I did something quite out of character the other day and downloaded a digital drawing application on my phone called Procreate Pocket. Kevin had posted some lovely digital drawings and I was interested to see if I might be able to do something of my own with this new tool.
And so I am something of an old dog learning a few new tricks.
It feels nice to use the phone as a tool, versus feeling used up by the phone and all of its trappings. I’ve curbed my social media use in recent days, being more conscious of whether I am using it, or it is using me.
I’ve ordered some clayboard panels which should be in next week to expand a small painting of mine into a triptych of sorts – a special commission for some kind patrons who happen to like cows.
I’ve said yes to a low-paying illustration job in the hope that the exercise alone will be worth the effort.
I’ve recommitted to not only keeping up with the flute playing so near and dear to my heart, but learning a few tunes on the concertina which I spend so much time around anyway at the shop. (So far, I have a polka, a bit of a waltz, and half of a jig. and maybe a bit of that old hornpipe I tried to learn a few summers ago) I am so fortunate to have access to these beautiful instruments. I might as well learn to play one.
With the dawning of a new year, thoughts turn to re-centering in the things which mean the most to us. My word for 2018 is T R U S T. I like having a word to ponder and work with, versus a long list of resolutions. I’m learning to trust my own intuition more and more. A real gift of this stage of one’s life.
Tomorrow the hub and I head west for a couple of days by the ocean in between our busy work schedules. Like a landlocked mermaid, I can already taste the salt air and am deeply looking forward to hearing the waves crashing.
“Dance upon the shore; What need have you to care for wind or water’s roar?” ~W. B. Yeats
Keep an eye out in the usual posty places (IG , Twitter) for drawings and musings as we travel. Wishing you the brightest of New Year’s offerings. May it be all we hope it can be. And more than we could ever have dreamed of.