Sunday, February 4, 2018

Rainy Winter Vancouver

It has rained continuously. Dark. Dreary. Steady. Unrelenting.  I have my SAD Lite out. I'm going to add some Vitamin D only because my neighbour swears by it.  Maybe placebo.  St. John’s Wart is the natural winter herbal antidepressant .  I begin wondering if I shouldn’t get some Trintellix or Pristiq.  They work.  Excellent antidepressants.
But then the sun comes out. l’m instantly happy.   I’m only sun deficient. I’m not bipolar.  Sun deficient is reactive depression.  I reaction to light. Seasonal Affective Disorder. Sunny days I’m uplifted.
I do like my SAD Lite especially in the bathroom. It helps my shaving.  My friend uses it for her make up.  It’s a major addition to the morning.
I”ve concluded what I suffer is Grief.  Sun Grief.  The darkness steals the light.  I’ve in bereavement over the loss of my dear friend.  I don’t mind a couple of days of rain but after weeks I lose faith. Is the sun coming back. I feel like my pets must feel when I come hope late. They greet me the way I greet the sun here after the rain.  Thank goodness.
I understand why ancients sacrificed their politicians in days gone by. Whether it hurried back the sun it would at least stop them from wasting tax payer money and make them think twice about giving themselves more raises.
I don’t like waking in the dark. I don’t mind doing this for hunting, fishing or sailing but not for work.  It’s dark when I come home at night too so I don’t know who sees the benefit of this arbitrary manipulation.  As an old man says, only a fool would think cutting the end off a blanket and sewing it to the top, would make the day longer.  It doesn’t work.
The days are getting longer. I notice the light coming sooner in the morning. Soon there will be crocus and tulips.  It’s so beautiful here in the spring.  I don’t know that anyone who doesn’t know 3 or 4 seasons can know the joy and beauty of the spring.
March is when I’ve started motorcycling. There is yet hope.  Just one more month and then the flowers begin to appear in Vancouver.Once the flowers return there’s real possibility that I will have survived another winter.  Hallelujah.
Gratitude helps. - I’m really thankful for Gilbert.  He’s such a good companion.  He walks me too. Can’t imagine how fat I might be without this personal trainer.  I took a picture of some new shoots. I expect they’re due to bud any day.  I’m not much on ground hogs but flowers rarely lie. And when they do, well, the late frost, kills them. So I’m hopeful when I see the flowers believing.  Despite the rare trick of nature they seem the best harbinger of spring.  The world is not going to end despite all the doomsaying of the catastrophic global warming nutbars.  Life goes on.  The baby boomers will die and another group will take over.  A generation hence will have halcyon cries of ‘yellow privilege’ or ‘black privilege’.  Whites will persists like the red man.  There’s always enclaves of culture that resist insanity. Imagine an Amish man who has lived his life without having to hear any  Kardasians.  Imagine the tranquility of his mind.  There is peace on earth. It’s not jot at the CBC and rarely in government towns like Washington Beijing, London or Ottawa.  It’s in the countryside where monks build monasteries. It’s at Iona.  It’s in Meteora.  It’s an elusive butterfly.  I meditate in the morning and sometimes I feel God’s presence more surely.  I like to leave a little opening at the start of the day, inviting Christ in. Christ come.  Christ be with me.  Hallelujah.

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