Today I began my T'ai Chi Chih practice early, before the sky's blush of radiant pink expanded and transformed into orange, lavender, peach, and then gradually lightened into baby blue, and finally, glowing white. I watched the cascades of color throughout my practice until--ta da!--the fullness of day had arrived.
Someone at yesterday's Christmas breakfast mentioned that in Norway, after weeks of darkness, when the sun reappears (even though it's only for a few minutes as it breaches the horizon and then disappears) the Norwegian people rush outside to watch the sun rise and fall. They raise their hands in front of their faces, thumbs and forefingers touching, to create a circular shape in which to capture the rays of the sun. Then, they simply cheer and holler. "People in Norway have a different relationship to the sun than we Americans do," the storyteller affirmed.
Living here on a peninsula that juts into Lake Superior I, too, can relate to that deep desire to absorb and embody the sun's rays. Thank goodness we still have about eight hours of daylight during the depths of winter here, but we also have day upon day of grey, overcast skies. Truthfully, it can be SAD.
Glorious sunshine beamed through the day today though it was accompanied by a frighteningly strong, roaring wind. Branches tumbled from the sky and the goose and chicken seemed leery of their surroundings when I opened the door to let the dog outside.
I spent the day resting and recouperating from whatever odd allergic reaction I acquired yesterday. Before we left for breakfast yesterday morning I felt itchy around my eyes; by the time we returned home I felt lumps growing along the sides of my face; and, when I rose this morning, I had large bags of fluid hanging beneath my eyes. I have no clue as to the source of this disfiguring malady; but, the swelling and inflammation exhausted me and I went to bed early last night and took a nap this afternoon.
Luckily, the colors of the morning sunrise entertained and distracted me and my T'ai Chi Chih practice lightened my mood, at least temporarily. Later, though, I hit a low point. Clearly, I was tired and easily discouraged by the condition of my health, the fact that our furnace isn't working today, our coffeemaker died last week, and the refrigerator is ready to be hauled to the junk heap (we still use it even though it freezes most of the contents of the frig).
These things, too, shall pass....