The Winter That Ate My Brain

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times—it was the winter that ate my brain. Oh where, oh where do I begin to condense the experience of several months into a brief explanatory missive?

December, as per usual, was filled to the brim with festive activity. Our colleague and fellow Member in Good Standing of the Sacred Clown Posse came to stay for a visit during which much mischief and fun ensued. Parties, presents, and more sugar based goodies than at which one could shake a stick—you know the drill. We danced, we sang, we played hop-scotch on the furniture until the sugar buzz wore off.

The day after his departure, we ourselves departed for places west and adventures unknown. After stopping in Kansas for one evening to visit a friend, we were on to Tucson and the Sonoran Desert. January, by the way, is a lovely time to see the desert. We stayed with another one of our wonderful friends for a week there, hiked in the desert, listened to the quiet, enjoyed the sunsets and tried to make friends with the cacti. I learned that, in general, it isn’t the animal life in the desert that’s trying to kill you—it’s the plant life. Going barefoot is just never a good idea. On the way home, we stayed with yet more fantastic compadres in New Orleans for a few days and enjoyed the quiet before the storm which is Mardi Gras. Finally, after two weeks of travel, we turned north east and headed toward home.

The very next day, the dear friend who we had visited in Kansas on the way out west called with very distressing news—her mother had committed suicide. Less than two weeks earlier, we had been sitting with her and her mother having a lovely time over dinner with no hint of impending tragedy. So, less than twenty-four hours after my return home, I was on the way to the airport to catch a plane to Wichita to be with my friend through such an emotionally trying time.

What did I learn from this experience? Suicide is a terrible thing. Sure, it is natural for the idea to cross the mind from time to time as a fantasy, a way out, when circumstances seem overwhelming. It is, in those moments, sometimes easy to tell one’s self that perhaps the world would be better without one in it, that perhaps this is the answer, that perhaps one’s family would be better off. But now I’ve seen it with my own eyes—suicide is not a good answer to any problem. It takes unhappiness, amplifies it, then sends it exploding outward to those who love the one who has made such an unfortunate choice. It was a very sad time for those who were close to her—it still is a sad time for them, and probably will be so for some time to come.

Then, after much ordeal concerning missed flights and winter storm related airport closings, I went home and slept until the middle of February.

Let’s see…what else….

I celebrated my usual three New Year’s Days—January 1st, Imbolc and Losar—each with its own set of rituals and resolutions. At the beginning of January, I start thinking…hmm… what do I want to do this year? By the beginning of February, I have a very solid idea of where I’m going and how I’m going to get there, and by a few weeks later I make sure that I have those plans in the beginning stages of enaction. This system works well for me. If I only think about the new year for one day it is too easy for me to just forget it again the next. If I spread it out over a several week period, it gives me time to think, focus and plan my strategy. Then, when the metaphysical shoot opens, my feet are under me and I’m ready to spring.

So I’ve sprung. I’m doing many things right now, the details of which I will not bore you. New business, plans to go back to school, etc., etc. But, the important point is that I’M BACK—I even have a spiffy new Computer Chair of Nirvana that I picked up at an auction for ten bucks. With my new leather bound chair cushioning my backside with unsurpassed blissful comfort, I will certainly be happy to sit for hours on end contemplating the state of the universe through the tips of my fingers.

What is the sound of one hand tapping?