Today I feel out of sorts. I think it’s because I moved my Citalopram (antidepressant) to bedtime instead of morning, and I skipped a day accidentally, so maybe my body is low on Citalopram.
The weather is bitterly cold. Last night it was supposed to hit -17 degrees, so I turned up all of the thermostats, afraid of pipes freezing. This morning I think Hubby said it was 7 degrees. There are icicles all around the house — they’re even starting to grow inside the window screens. I can see them expanding and beginning to rip the screens apart.
Pup is snoring behind me just waiting for me to tell him we’re going for our walk. I’m not sure if it will be too cold for him or not. Yesterday was pretty cold, and I snowshoed a couple-mile loop on the hiking trail. I thought he would fuss, but he stayed right up with me until the end. When we got to the house, he raced ahead of me and stood at the back door as if to say “We did it, now let’s get the hell indoors where it’s warm!”
I think my meditation is making me more mindful, without even trying. When I was hiking yesterday I had moments where the snow on the trees with the angle of the sun was intensely breathtaking, and I had to just stop and stare, mesmerized. I had the same experience getting the mail the other day. The driveway light is just sticking up over the blanket of snow, and at night the light makes a gorgeous star in the snow. Sometimes I’m taken aback when I encounter these things. Everything seems so buried and desolate and cold. The winter snow world is like another planet. Its beauty comes from a different place than the beauty that pops out at springtime or the hustle and bustle of nature in the summer.
I started a pot journal, and whenever I’m smoking I try to remember to journal what I’m feeling. Last night I added gratitude to the journal so I can remember the things in my life I’m grateful for. Last night I wrote “I pray that Hubby dies before me, because without him my life will become hell on earth, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone else much less him.”
My mother-in-law says “old age is not for sissies”. I feel very melancholy today. I can’t make any sense of anything. I read recently that your inner being – the part of you that gets accessed when you’re meditating – is the only constant in this world. The rest of the world is impermanent and constantly changing. It’s this constant flux that throws us for a loop. Our thinking minds can’t make sense of things as they come and go and spin circles around us. Now I will do sitting meditation and bring my inner self back into the day followed by smoking a nice bowl of pot and all will be better. If it’s not, I’ll give it another day or two to see if I need to change my Citalopram back to mornings.