Winter is my least favourite season of the year. I do love Christmas, cosiness and candles but I don’t love winter lasting for nine months of the year. Talk about hogging the time of the other seasons. As with life in general, I can resist and resent it when my least favourite season lingers longer than a rotten fart. (you know who you are)
Anyway, I think it was the old lady from Downton Abbey that once said something along the lines of,
‘Life is just a series of problems …’
This may not satisfy the requirements of the ‘positive thoughts only police’ but they are probably more helpful than any fluffier counterparts in preparing us for reality on its own terms. I am often reminded of these words when I’m wishing some problem, or another would do one without me having to do anything let alone the work of learning any lessons from it.
This current seemingly never-ending winter is a problem because I can’t get on with my love of gardening. This is because the frost is still threatening to kill off anything not hardy enough to survive it, including me. I am still struggling to overcome my resistance/tightness towards putting the heating on when we’re nearly in May.
My favourite seasons of nature and life are spring and summer when I begin to see the results of all that was going on underground in winter. I do not love it when any winter season overstays its welcome.
This makes me reflect on the past few weeks where aside from the artic air temperature (12 degrees in my house this morning; lounge not garden), there have been multiple mess ups leading to multiple melt downs in the at times farcical face of technological failings. Last night threw up yet another one of these when the meal myself and my friend had ordered was still nowhere to be seen over half an hour later. When my hangry beast enquired as to how much longer it was going to be, we were informed that the new technology system had somehow got our order stuck. Fortunately, before I could have a monumental melt down, my calm friend handled it! And we got our grub five moaning-filled minutes later. (my moaning not hers).
Thumbs down to technology. Yes, there are incredible developments but is it reliable or consistent? Does it really save time or make things easier? All too often, it would seem to me at least, that the answer is no, quite the opposite.
And yet after the helpful experiences of humans that I had in the past two weeks when technology consistently failed, I was encouraged. Then this week’s trip to the cinema led to what felt like a case of, the computer says ‘no’ and so do the humans. This despite us trying to pay money for tickets to Cineworld, just not an inflated amount for wanting a human interaction.
Then there is the mother scenario, where the first hand I was dealt was a diluted continuation of the difficulties that have been passed down that maternal line. Yet I have enjoyed the gift and privilege of eight precious years with a beautiful spiritual mother who loved and encouraged me in all I do. At least until that horrendous stealer of life, cancer, took her. Currently I am fortunate enough to enjoy a fabulous and fun relationship with a wonderful mother figure with whom I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for over eight years now. (Lord, please grant us many more.) We share endless cups of tea, chats about anything and regular sessions of shape throwing. We did these in her garden during lockdown and we still do that when temperatures are a long way above freezing. Otherwise, we dance around her lounge. With a shared appreciation for soul music we also enjoy not-regular-enough nights out with the local legend that is The Soul man. How grateful I am to have her in my life.
All of the above reminds me that life continues to throw up the rough and the smooth. And I continue to respond much better to the rough than the smooth. While I prefer my peanut butter rough, I most definitely prefer my life smooth. And therein lay my learning. Groan.
I must now return to the ‘keeping of cool’ drawing board.