an interior life

after a long, dark, cold maine winter, during the worst of which i must confess i was often in my pajamas right after dinner, the longing to be outside in warm sunshine is almost unbearable. i am sick of the furnace rumbling on and on under my feet, sending up hot, dry dusty air to attack my sinuses. in the middle of winter i am startled at night by a bleak apparition as i walk past the living room's wall of long black window glass, an apparition which turns out to be my winter self  - dry, chapped skin, sun-starved eyes, runny nose... is that really me? - mockingly reflected back.

to be outside with the sun's rays injecting my bones with a kind of heady medicine, and sensing my winter-weary body thawing and rejoicing as it becomes nicely baked, and to feel the deep heat pulsing in my neck and back and arms and legs, grasping and massaging, is pure relief. it is good.

a trip down south into the nourishing moist tropical breezes helps me get my winter bones supple again, smoothes my flakey skin, calms my stuffy nose, and clears my head. to be living in the outside world, to be out beyond the walls of boxed-in buildings and into natural light and warm open air, helps my inside being come alive to fresh beginnings, new ideas, and rubs a spark of creative flame.

the life where i live alone in my head with only my thoughts for company can be rich if i tend to it, cultivate it; i enjoy quiet, reflective time. so some days i turn off, tune out, the exterior distractions - phones, computers, music, the chatter, the running around, the go go go world, and focus on what is inside - to tune in to the inside of myself. to hear myself think. to call up some pensive contemplation. drink tea. read/walk/write. we are, after all, mostly alone with our interior selves, even in a room filled with people. truthfully, this inside life needs care and attention. the natural world helps. and so i go there.

the sea beckons, ignites my mind, sends me on my way. i walk on the beach. wind and sun, sand and ocean. sparkling gems ride the surface of the water and pour into my soul a wealth of rising and falling feelings, buoyed up, spreading out, floating along. inspiration comes with the sighs of worn-out waves as they end their long voyage across the planet and disappear under the cover of the sand beneath my toes, which dig deeply, inquisitively, into the edge of the resting sea.....