I have been in a drunken state for days, and I don't mean blissed. (I am not drinking alcohol or smoking or engaging in any specific vice.) But, I have been stupid and stumbling, thinking myself witty and wise, in a STATE!
I wonder if this is the natural condition of winter. I've certainly experienced this before, only it feels particularly poignant this year. I think that is why we strive to incorporate winter activities, like skiing or snowshoeing (both activities now only for the brave at heart, or the foolish, due to the thick layer of ice which covers most surfaces). Just to get outside helps me to feel more alive.
I've been eating tamasic foods, eggs and cheese, and coconut ice cream. I've put on my winter weight and it feels sluggish on me, as though I'm wearing trousers that weigh 10 pounds. They don't fit, the pants don't flow with me as I move, and somehow I am held inside of these trousers-not trapped or stuck-but absolutely complacent to the discomfort.
I've been getting some things done: an occasional visit with friends and family, cleaning the house, starting & tending my garden plants, & reading (mostly novels, my coffee table still covered with the hopeful study books). Teaching a couple of times a month, seeing students and clients, etc. And sometimes writing, although often my creative pieces get a lovely start, and then I drift to another chair, my ambition for the day forgotten in a rousing game of Sudoko or something.
Sloth has overwhelmed my desire for doing.
I am in a genuinely tamasic state.
And it was, if not fun, certainly comfortable for a while, but now I am beginning to think of myself as a small metal pellet being devoured by a huge magnetic glob, and I am less and less happy with being engulfed by this tamas.
I am not fighting this, just simply acknowledging that I have been here, and that I feel ready to be somewhere else.
The last two days, I've been trying simply to break my patterns. I do yoga at intervals throughout the day, rather than all at once in the morning. So now a forward fold, because that's what my body calls for. Later, maybe, Down Dog or Warrior.
I am making sure I take my vitamins and supplements, and paying attention to how they move in me.
I don my layers-the silk long johns and the wool hat, the down coat and my KEENS, and trudge about in town, forcing myself to speak to those passers-by who catch my eye.
In the evening, I set the timer to 60 minutes, to make sure I get up and move every hour.
I am eating less fats. Less sugars.
I am emerging like seeds on Imbolc, pushing a bit against the earth, sniffing the air, feeling the warmth beginning to return to the frozen tundra.
I don't want this to read as though it has been hard. It hasn't. It has simply been NOT VERY INTERESTING. Like a hibernation, except I kept expecting to have a super productive moment. Finish reading Gebser. Work on my latest sewing creation. Shovel out the rest of the driveway!
It was my expectation of something else that became the push and the pull.
I am feeling drunken again today but it is manifesting a little differently. It is a curiosity. What would I do if I wasn't doing nothing?
Apparently, I would write to you.