I’m wearing my new dress:
Judging by the amount of posts last week we can safely assume the chatter in my head has died down. And it has. I spend most days at the cabin, resting, knitting, taking little walks outside.
The wired chatter must have been a residue from things I ate in the city, sugary things. They’ve now left the system. I’ve had a week of taking a 100 mg progesteron pill at night and sleep has been good – by my standards.
Now the menstrual cycle is kicking in, throwing off all buttons and dials so last night I slept poorly.
I had a weird thing happen on Thursday and Friday: camomille tea made me sad. I was truly sad, living in this small world of ours. Walking around the little meadow near the cabin I saw how this country is all neat and tidy. No room for messy nature where animals can flourish.
We add more houses and cars every day. It is really getting crowded here. Animals are loosing their habitats, we are loosing the animals.
Historic landscapes are cleaned up, shoveled over, optimized, modernized.
I no longer find the landscapes I know from old paintings: horizons, wide rivers, cows with horns. I no longer find the landscapes I knew from 30 years ago.
painting by Willem Maris, around 1900
This is normal progress of time. People live their lives, they do their things, they alter their environment. All together we alter our country, our continents, our earth. There’s no use whining about it. This is how human life lives.
Sometime a small thing can make a huge difference in this flow and unexpected gems come up. Like how people find each other on the internet. We could whine all day about www pornography and violent movies on the net and how people are no longer connected to their irl community or their own feelings, how they hide anonymously and troll the net and how progress is nothing but misery.
But unexpectedly there’s an online knitting community that sparks goodness: Ravelry.com gives people new connections, new friendships, in real life. Or the joy people get from looking at online cat pictures. That’s really one of the weirdest things, how big that one got.
Surely there are things like that to be found when walking about in my crowded country. But I couldn’t see them. Because my serotonine was low. Because of camomille tea.
It was camomille-valerian-lavender tea. To calm down the chatter. The Sympathetic Nervous System. Which it did. An odd experience. And 100% reproducable.
pic by cozgrl05
I quit the tea. The next day -and after that- I enjoyed my walks. Serotonine levels are up again. I’m a happy junkie.
Now it’s Monday morning. I’m back in the city. I’m having a bit of a hard time as the week before my period has begun. My mood is in mineur. I need lots of progesteron and lithium. My belly hurts. I also got a gift from a friend: a book about Norwegian cabins. The pain of missing that country hit me big, again. It hurts. I cry.
I’m also annoyed because there are about 14 things I really want to do today but I’m only good for 2. And those should be the sensible things (make soup, have a walk) and not the fun things (read an artbook, try out the new pencils)
I had a crappy night. My shoulder hurts for days now, I can’t lift things, can’t use the halters I bought.
Never mind the legwarmers, it’s about the dress and the layers. They’re mostly handknits. These months I love to dress in Winter Queen colours: blues, silver, mint, aqua, greens.
Underneath, in my spirit, I am a small strong bird. A Kingfisher. A Kolibri. A Starling. A small bird with determination and streaks of sparkling blues.
pic by Bruce Brouwer
pic by hislightrq