When I lived in Victoria several years ago, I would occasionally fall into these deep slumps which in turn would make me into an emotional disaster. It was finally revealed through self-discovery, that, although I didn't hate my life in Victoria, I needed to get out from the city lights and return to the family farm.
As you know, I did just that.
Ever since our move from our condo in Victoria, to our three bedroom home in Duncan, to our large manor (manor has a better ring to it than farmhouse, don't you think?) in the country, the appearance of these "emotional episodes" decreased so that they would only show up when aggravated by negative energies (certain people), or triggered by pregnancy hormones when told that my choice of paint colour was unsatisfactory (keep in mind, I was very very tired and we were doing huge renovations).
Recently, as recent as three days ago, one of these moods snuck up on me and I let it try to beat my dreams and optimism out of me. Winters aren't the best time of year for me- I wouldn't say I suffer from depression or SAD, or anything like that, but sometimes this season is just simply my enemy. Although the weather is fantastic right now, the days are so short. The house is so cold that we keep our blinds shut to cut back on the drafts, and the cave-like interior does not help. I have been so exhausted, still am ... so why am I still up, writing this post?
It's like this. I had two days of angst and depression, and I let it not only affect me, but those around me. I said I wanted to leave the farm.
When I am in these "moods", I say things that I do not mean. Of course I don't want to leave the farm! This is me!
Tonight as I did the last check of the animals, I took the time to reflect ... to feel.
Although I had the head lamp around my head, there was no need for the light. The dark evening was lit by the moon- the stars were bright- the air crisp but not at all unpleasant. I had my dog at my side. I had peace.
In the big barn, I snuggled into the clean sawdust bed next to Paula, and she rested her (very) heavy head in my lap and closed her eyes. Had I not been propped uncomfortably on top of one of the free stall bars, I was considering staying there for the night. At the next barn, I leaned against the wall as I waited for the water tough to fill, and in no time at all, Allie had licked the entire front of my coat.
This is the life. I am happy.
Do not listen if I try to tell you otherwise.
As you know, I did just that.
Ever since our move from our condo in Victoria, to our three bedroom home in Duncan, to our large manor (manor has a better ring to it than farmhouse, don't you think?) in the country, the appearance of these "emotional episodes" decreased so that they would only show up when aggravated by negative energies (certain people), or triggered by pregnancy hormones when told that my choice of paint colour was unsatisfactory (keep in mind, I was very very tired and we were doing huge renovations).
Recently, as recent as three days ago, one of these moods snuck up on me and I let it try to beat my dreams and optimism out of me. Winters aren't the best time of year for me- I wouldn't say I suffer from depression or SAD, or anything like that, but sometimes this season is just simply my enemy. Although the weather is fantastic right now, the days are so short. The house is so cold that we keep our blinds shut to cut back on the drafts, and the cave-like interior does not help. I have been so exhausted, still am ... so why am I still up, writing this post?
It's like this. I had two days of angst and depression, and I let it not only affect me, but those around me. I said I wanted to leave the farm.
When I am in these "moods", I say things that I do not mean. Of course I don't want to leave the farm! This is me!
Tonight as I did the last check of the animals, I took the time to reflect ... to feel.
Although I had the head lamp around my head, there was no need for the light. The dark evening was lit by the moon- the stars were bright- the air crisp but not at all unpleasant. I had my dog at my side. I had peace.
In the big barn, I snuggled into the clean sawdust bed next to Paula, and she rested her (very) heavy head in my lap and closed her eyes. Had I not been propped uncomfortably on top of one of the free stall bars, I was considering staying there for the night. At the next barn, I leaned against the wall as I waited for the water tough to fill, and in no time at all, Allie had licked the entire front of my coat.
This is the life. I am happy.
Do not listen if I try to tell you otherwise.
I was 4-H kid. and I remember fondly laying in the straw tucked in against my cow, her head curled around into my lap and my legs stretched out. I think there were many times I nodded off after too early a morning and slept cushioned by the warmth of the cattle chewing their cud in the hazy morning in the barn.
ReplyDeleteI am so with you! I've learned that a visit to the buffalo always restores my sense of what's good and worth my attention. So easy to lose sight of those things in the winter. If the bull weren't in with them, I'd be tempted to go sleep in the barn with the girls--I think it would be warmer than our drafty house!
ReplyDeletewhat a wise woman you are to know yourself so well - only good can come of it:)
ReplyDelete