Rainy days and Darjeeling

The persistent drumming of heavy rain onto the roof of this old house is a calming serenade to my solitude today. Lake Ontario is lightening its load through dark clouds which are hanging over this forgotten village for days now. Each rolling thunder, each thick drop tapping on the glass of the kitchen door, each stroke of lightning illuminating the rooms I wander in, is bliss to my heart. Wind gusts drag fallen limbs through the garden, wiping away the broken and weak off of a canvas in such desperate need of something new.

Our whistling kettle spooks me for a second, and I poor the boiling water into the white teapot which had seen far better days. The familiar smoky scent of the Darjeeling envelopes me for a moment into memories which are cloaked in time and fading words said long ago. I pull the sleeves of my thick old sweater over my knuckles, and look at my two fingertips as always blackened by ink. Such a small reassuring sight in a world where change is seldom a choice.

Slowly strolling passed the dining room window long blinded by the rain, I take a sip from my steaming cup. I was born by the Northern Sea, where cold winds and harsh weather were no strangers to us, and my tea loving grandmother. She would always put just a few drops of milk into her delicate teacup, accompanied by a small rock of Kandis, which would slowly dissolve within the depth of what we now call the London Fog.

I have always loved the winter sea. Grey, dark and wild, always wild, like something pissed off the rolling waves just before they’d crash into the rugged coastline. Winter’s were the  best. Especially on the northern island, where my aunt and cousins lived. We would wander the deserted, white beaches no matter rain, wind or snow, and return with buckets of seashells, red cheeks and salt in our crazy hair.    Kicking off the rain boots, soaked socks, and yellow wax cloth parkas soonest we ran into the hallway. Already longing for the warm, cozy house since we had passed the lighthouse which towers high over the dunes.

That’s what it’s all about. After the ripping, cold winds from the ocean, you will appreciate the warmth which you now embrace so fully with body and soul.  

Walking through prolonged darkness makes you miss the sunlight, which on the average days you never even think about. It’s just another day. 

And while going about your daily routines, often boring chores and tight schedules, also remind yourself, that these days simply gone by, are your children’s childhood.

Remind yourself to live mindfully. Be kind to yourself and those around you. Think about how this time can bring you more comfort, joy and a little adventure.                    Because you will look back to these days. What do you expect to look back to? 

Be as happy, alive and loving as you can possibly be. Don’t think about what others have to say. Disregard what stops your very own journey in it’s tracks, and keep on going. It’s your life. Let the dark roll in and welcome the light. Standing in the cold once in a while is ok, you will really learn to enjoy the warmth again. Does any of this make sense?

Give priority to what makes your life whole. Forget the rest. Weather the storms and find joy in the calm which follows. Be conservative with your resources, your time, your energy and strength on any given day, and when you run out, be good to yourself and recharge. The laundry will still be laundry in the morning , and yes, sometimes a frozen pizza thrown in the oven will feed everybody just fine. Be feisty that way! You deserve it. Blow a kiss to your family from the couch, and read that book or magazine. Own it! Tomorrow is another day.

………. (End of this segment)

Love and Strength as always,

Simone’

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