Inner Weather

There are signs at all times to guide through the inner world, in the sky, the clouds, the passing of day and night, seasons. I believe in inner weather.

An old friend has moved back to town after living in Portland (and other places) for a few years. I got a call to join her and local dear friend at her apartment on Hill Avenue downtown. We sat on the back deck just beside the Henley Street bridge, watched the water and the ground hogs, the traffic and the sky, drank whiskey, and talked about lovers, and, of course, the weather. The weather is that common ground, or perhaps common sky, we all share experience with, we all are affected by. My old Friend talked about the nine months of gray drizzle in Portland, and also about the land, the sharp pointy mountains, so upright compared to our rounded ancient ones. She said the people there took on that uprightness, standing for something, having a point. Sounds a bit obnoxious to me, uppity. I like it here, the weather and the land, feeling a little shady, hanging out in low places, drinking whiskey and smoking Marlboros by the river, watching the kudzu grow. I digress.

What if fall come and you did not believe in spring? Everything has died, the sun has dimnished, the darkness is growing and growing, it is the end of the world. What if night fall came and you did not believe in dawn? You are blind, stumbling, cold, you cannot navigate, in utter darkness you cannot see that anyone is with you. What if you believed in those incapabilities? That is depression. Similarly what if lived in summer and did not believe in winter? You can sell your house, abandon clothing, sleep on the moss beds down by the river, swim all day and make love in bamboo groove, eat fruit that drops right into your hand from the trees, to hell with the working in the system! That is mania (yum...).

The weather and land shape the inner world. Perhaps through well documented avenue such as seasonal affective disorder or more subtle means. By adapting this model I have found a huge grace for myself regarding my moods. After spending ten years on heavy medication, anti-depressants and enough lithium to kill a horse, I stopped (nearly ten years ago now!). Now I give myself grace medicine. When it is dark inside, like nighttime, I remember that morning always comes. When it is winter inside I remember that spring always comes. I no longer succumb to the siren song that it really is the end of the world this time.

So the idea of weather in the soul has helped me. Now when my darkness comes, I sit with her, pray for dawn, and utterly believe it will come. And so it does. I let the tears flow. If you just let them keep flowing, they make a river to your heart, gathering in between and round in under your breasts. I have decided that if the eyes are the window to the soul then when the soul is working, sweating, that is what makes the tears that flow out from the eyes, soul sweat. She is working it out hard sometimes. That is a good thing.