About one hundred feet behind the house sits a building. Unassuming in nature and not in the best of condition, it serves a purpose divinely. You see, as I love my home and even the gardens surrounding it, the water beyond the shed is where my muse lives. She is lovely; she softly sings as I tappity tap the keys and she never fails to bring ideas or words to spur me onward. She is my breath on paper. Without her voice, without her presence, I cannot write or edit or even think clearly. The ‘shack’ has become my beloved studio. Windows can be opened for fresh air and sunlight. Windows can be sealed shut to guard against dreary and dismal weather and inside the natural lights and the bright lemony walls with dark brown floors and flower paintings lining the wall all work together to bring spring to my heart throughout the most dreary of times. That sky you see surrounding my beloved studio is far, far from my heart as I sit and tap out my thoughts. The flowers are blooming and the sun is shining all over these walls hugging me as my muse sings off in the distance and my mind becomes liquid. Thoughts, ideas and warmth fill me and then spill from my fingertips into your head and your heart and we share. Writing is all about sharing for me. Emptying my head and sharing my heart.
As bleak and miserable as winter months are for me, I am reminded sitting in the ‘studio of perpetual spring’, that all I have around me is love. I cannot ignore the people who care about me and the warmth they exude in their words and deeds. I know that I have been blessed beyond measure with family and friends who would always be there for me, if a need arose. I know that God takes care of me daily and that nothing is impossible with Him in my life. I can see our comfortable, but humble home. I know there will be food to prepare for each meal and I know that we have enough money to live meager but nice days from now until the end, if the end comes soon. I am keenly aware of all of this and yet…
My shoulders ache. My head has a dull and annoying pain which aspirin, Aleve nor Advil will relieve. I feel heavy. Not heavy as in overweight. Not heavy as in burdened with care. Heavy and sluggish and unconcerned about almost everything around me. I don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t really want to talk to people because I have nothing good to say. I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want, period. I am not angry. I am not sad. I am not sick. There is nothing wrong with me except that I have no motivation to participate in life right now. I am actually feeling nothing.
Each day of these ‘periods’, I get up and have coffee. I read my emails and check in on Facebook. I play a game or two with friends on my phone. I have another cup of coffee. I shower, make my bed and then sit my butt down to watch whatever is on TV. In the afternoon I will do whatever housework must be done and nothing more. I will prepare dinner and it might be good or it might be a little something to eat. I will do these things because I don’t live alone. If I did, I would probably not be doing any of those things. I read, I knit and I watch TV. All are sedentary activities and do not stretch either a muscle or a brain cell. That is what I can handle most days from January until well into March. If the sun shines for a couple of days, I will be energized and I will get things done. I will start a project or finish one which I have neglected because I lost motivation. I truly am solar powered and as long as the sun makes occasional appearances for multiple days, I will get through another Michigan winter. I will laugh and I will communicate on the good days and I will always be counting the days til spring. Always.
Forgive me, I will return and I sincerely hope some of you are still hanging around when I do. The little studio and the lake are not part of my life right now, just a part of my imagination and on days like today, the thought of them and of course, my muse, make me feel just a bit more human.