It’s that time of year again, I’ve started feeling un-productive, a little lazy, tired even, but instead of swallowing another spoonful of self-induced guilt, this year I am starting to question it. I am beginning to think that S.A.D. is more of that medicated trickery created to make us feel like there is something wrong with packin it in for the winter.
It’s normal, and I (we) just need to recogonize, that depression doesn’t have to mean sadness… it’s
a lessening of activity
dullness or inactivity
a depressed or sunken place or part; an area lower than the surrounding surface
Our energy doesn’t come out in regulated doses. The pure motion with which you moved in May, is waning… and you just have to let it go… ….
In the past few weeks, I’ve craved regular homecooked meals, (okay I’ve craved everything and a seemingly instantaneous result is my pants fitting a little tighter). I’ve instituted a 10 o’clock bedtime and 2 hour Saturday afternoon naps…. (okay I lied, 3 hours). I’ve craved a glass of wine in the evening, and cider, and pots of soup, and pasta with fresh baked bread. I rejoined Netflix and the only thing I’ve been takin to bed lately, is a good book.
The seasons are like waves, there are cyclical rhythms and if ya can’t understand the why for, just have enough sense to follow.
So I’m not gonna fight it anymore, I’m in for the winter, I’ll light a fire in the fireplace, get out my electric blanket and just accept it.
There’s no use denying the turtles, and the bears, and the bats, and the snakes. There’s no sense in feeling like you’ve got something wrong with you just be thankful for the chance to rest. Zzzzzzzzzz…..