Wintering begins.
Sooner than expected.
I’ve been snowed in for a few days. Five maybe. It is unknown how many more.
This is more frustration than I’m used to being with.
I am unprepared.
Days are like pendulum swings.
My mood swings far to the right of everything joyful; everything full of opportunity and everything wonderful (full of wonder) – and to the far left of everything gone wrong, everything is breaking, everything inside and outside falling apart, and my hands are so terribly cold.
So many joys, equal to so many frustrations.
It’s the most peaceful quiet outside amidst the cedar and cypress trees, and at this point, about sixteen inches of snow.
Snow makes quiet, but it’s hard to find quiet inside me.
I am in the Cascade Mountains nestled in the Pacific NorthWest. It’s the life of a minimalist, and I am finding it most beautiful, but I am not sure I can do this.
Ands and buts.
My mind in its frustration tells me over and over in a very sad tone, you can’t do this.
Or maybe, I am just not prepared, so I haven’t given up yet.
Snow makes quiet outside, but the sound of water dripping so the pipes don’t freeze and the sound of electric heaters – less than quiet in here- and with all my buts that interupt the beauty nestled infront of me.
This is a very unique lifestyle.
I wished I’d been better prepared.
Wintering has begun.
Nightfall is here. At less than 4:20pm it arrives.
The wind blows heavily tonight.
My internal fears stir with the wind. The trees are big out there. And I am told they fall sometimes.
My internal Wintering has also begun, and I am just as unprepared.
I am afraid. I am frustrated. I am disappointed.
And there’s nowhere to go.
I am snowed in.
Sadness comes over me.
Its feels warm compared to the bitter cold outside.
There’s a tinge of fear here.
My hands feel tired; they ache.
I will take rest.
My Wintering has begun.
*inspired by