Seasonal – 5 Lines
Disordered In Fact
We agreed on this much,
that the seasons were changing, disordered in fact,
more snow, more rain, more heat than before,
new seasons were evolving,
but, out of fear, we chose ignorance over facts.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Arabica claims my soul,
and I fold into myself.
Nursing, caressing ceramic,
contours of the mind explored,
a joie de vivre.
Pleasure fills and shutters me,
with a kind disregard for all.
Shuffling The Daily, scraping chairs,
pling and clicking banished,
My visa is for mellow ground.
Grief, a presence felt, “How was that?”
But how could I explain?
Ambrosia? Words inadequate.
A meditation slowly unfolding.
“Perfect.” I said.
The spell now broken I come ashore,
leaving kairos, chronos pulling
its quotients ever draining.
I prefer seasons out of time.
Fervour – Word of the Day
When the bush comes alive it is with fervour! The colour is rich and varied, the smell is glorious, the hum of insects and the sound of birds is divine. We are currently in winter here, this was taken a few years ago in spring in the eastern wheatbelt after the rains had been the best for a number of years. Hoping the rains are good this year so that we get a repeat of these wildflowers.
Seasons come and go, in order, and generally predictable. But our personal inner seasons are nothing like that. I’ve had long internal winters which have given rise to colourful, intense springs of growth. I’ve had long summers of basking in joy and contentment. I’ve had autumns where transition and change have prepared me body, mind and soul for new experiences. They never come in order, they are never fixed in duration, they are unpredictable. If they were, then life would be dull.
Our inner seasons are indicative of our lived reality, the stuff of relationships, love, joy, pain. It is the complexity of body, mind and soul as a receptor of a multiplicity of experiences. It is gift and loss. It is the giddyness of aspiration, and the sober nature of graft and heft. It is our senses open and engaged. None are negative. Winter is essential, a season of withdrawing, waiting, refreshing, washing, grieving gives way to spring. Winter waters spring. As we befriend our inner winters, we become wiser, integrated, stronger for the journey. Without rain there is no blossom, no juice. As we rejoice in our summers we store up memories that give back to us over a lifetime. Each season is lived and embodied, a respository of awareness. Nothing is lost. Each one gives me fervour, fervour for life, love and purpose.
Currently I’m in an autumnal time of reflection and revision and I’m seeking that next step into spring. I wonder where you are at?
dark clouds surround
the rain falls inside of me
cherry blossom glows
The last days of autumn, and the beauty of river and cloud along the Blackwood.
The days are shorter now as autumn gives way to winter. I am grateful for the change in season even though I don’t like the cold, somehow nature needs this, I tell my self, but I know deep down that I need it too. But there is an impact that the seasonal change makes known as SAD (an auspicious aconym) or Seasonal Affective Disorder.
As winter progresses it is quite normal to feel tired and unmotivated, it is a form of the ‘blues’ but it now has a name – SAD. I think it’s probably an ancient hibernation process we are fighting, but that’s just a witsful guess, perhaps a latent desire to sleep in and ignore the cold air. However, exercise, dietary changes, sleep, meditation and a change in habit can recharge and motivate us. To do something different rather than force a summer routine into a winter context might be truly barking up the wrong tree. I note that several local young men are still clinging to shorts, t-shirt and thongs, and even though this week it has dropped to 3 degrees overnight, they are hanging on to summer as if to say, nature won’t force me to change. Yeah, right! It will.
SAD is best embraced and refocussed, a reframing of inner thought and responding energy, and to make friends with the season, and to live into it mindfully.
via Daily Prompt: Enlighten
When I was a child I had very limited interaction with indigenous people. As I have aged I have spent considerable time meeting with and reading about indigenous people and their culture. For me it’s the relational side that really helps enlighten, but I never discount reading, or watching documentaries.
The story board in the photo is part of an indigenous story trail above Windy Harbour. This board shows the six Noongar seasons. They are quite different to the four Euro seasons I have grown up with. The six Noongar seasons are: Beruc, Meertillook, Pourner, Meerningal, and Maunbernan.
Beruc is Decemebr – January; Meertillook is February – March; Pourner is April – May; Mancur is June – July; Meerningal is August – September; Maunbernan is October – November. When you live here for a time this understanding of seasons makes perfect sense. The Euro four seasons is not clear here, but, and it goes without saying, the indigenous seasonal calendar fits my experience. The six seasons also relate to different wind cycles, which is also my experience. The pictures on the story board tell the story of the seasons well.
I’d love to have these as our official seasonal guide, but they are specific to Western Australia, and only in the south, so it would only relate to people in our southern districts. Even so, it would be a positive step, because it would enlighten us to the great variety in the seasons, and would also explain our weather patterns.