It has been another week of dark grey days with lots of rain and occasional flakes of snow. But it is the dark grey days that I do not like. I need light and warmth in my life in order to function. I started well at the beginning of the week as I was writing a new book then suddenly on Wednesday everything came to a stop. I was feeling depressed again and I am sure it is the dark grey days.
I used my SAD lamp for a short time and it did lift my spirits enough to do a bit more writing. But I shall be really glad when the weather improves. If the sun comes out I immediately feel better as I am sure we all do. Yet the landscape in winter has a beauty all its own. I love the bare trees with their gnarled branches standing out against the sky. I love to watch the birds on the feeder in the garden and see the hazel catkins swaying in the breeze.
We have been lucky where I live unlike many of my friends further north who have had large amounts of snow. Yet I think I would have preferred to see the snow rather than the grey dark rainy days we have had. The snow brings light to the landscape unlike the rain which just seems to wash it out into a greyish mass.
Soon it will be Imbolc, where we welcome Brigid. The snowdrops will be out then bringing their light and joy into our world. I am looking forward to this and to the lengthening days.
It is only in recent years that I have been visited by the black dog. I cannot remember it ever happening before about five years ago. I got very depressed at that time and wouldn’t go out or do anything. Counselling helped and I know how to deal with it. But recently it has happened more often and I am trying to find out why this is.
Up until about five or six years ago I was still very active and ran workshops and groups for various subjects. I have run a family history group for a very long time and that enabled me to meet others with similar interests. I also ran groups where we learned about colour, the tarot, numerology and other similar things.
Today I am much less mobile and have to use public transport to get anywhere and I do find this hard as buses never connect properly and you spend a lot of time waiting at bus stops. Every few months the bus companies change the timetables and this makes it even worse and also confusing. I do have projects on the go, for example, I am working with a group of other volunteers on a project with the local museum. I also have my own projects on family and local history to work on and possibly may start to run a family history group here where I live.
So plenty to do and a pond close by where I can walk every day at least once. But the black dog has been hanging around for some days now and visited me in a heavy manner the last few days. I do find it hard to live in confined spaces and I have heard others say they feel they are living in a cage and I suppose that is what it feels like at times. I like to feel space around me and lots of light and I have not had that anywhere I have lived in the last few years. That kind of home is hard to find. My mother used to tell me I should live in a field and I think maybe she was right!
But I am dealing with the black dog by making myself go out up to the pond and walk along the paths. I had company this morning, a local dog owner who has become a friend so that should make it easier now. If you get visits from the black dog, how do you deal with them?
This week has been quite strange but very uplifting in many ways. I don’t know what started it but the hour I spent in the park reading the script of a book I had written some time ago seems to be the beginning of the move out of the darkness that has been around me for some months now. On Wednesday I had a hospital visit for a clinic about preventing falls. This was very good and for once I felt that I was of importance to the medical profession and that they wanted to help me This made me feel much more positive about the future.
On Friday a friend came over and we chatted and did some odds and ends with which I needed some help. We also read the cards and some of the poetry I wrote ages ago. That evening I sat down and suddenly found myself writing poetry again after at least 12 months of stagnation. This was wonderful and I am now seeing my way out of the darkness. Not quite out yet but nearly there.
Do you ever have times like these? It is a bit like a rebirth or the phoenix rising from the ashes. Whatever you want to call it, it feels good! Please share any experiences you have of this kind.