It's that time of the year again! The seasons are changing, the days are getting longer, and in anxious anticipation of emancipation from Canada's tundra, I get overconfident and transition into my transition-jacket and impractical boots several weeks too early. And now I'm sneezing violently, and blowing my nose at so alarming a rate that its outskirts have become chapped and raw from overexposure to Kleenex. Friendly tip: if you should ever find yourself in this position, DO NOT lather your nostrils in Blistex. Someone I know (me) tried it, and rather than soothe it burned burned burned until I managed to wipe it all off, frantically I should add... thus further irritating my nasal region.
For more on that, see: http://document1-recovered.blogspot.com/2010/10/humbled-by-common-cold.html
You know, some people say that without the winter we wouldn't really be able to appreciate the summer. To those people I say, who the hell cares-- but if you'd like to lament the intrinsic value of slipping on black ice, 4:30 PM sunsets and not being able to go outside with wet hair, then I'd be happy to discuss the issue further on the beach dressed in bright colours, as we sip cool refreshing beverages and bask in the sun's gentle caress.
And yes I did just essentialize the seasons (omitting fall and spring entirely) and pit them against one another in an extremely linear and evaluative manner. But like I said, I'm a hypocrite. And so are you. So we might as well be able to chill on patios while we contradict ourselves. And wear scarves not out of brutal necessity, but to add a splash of colour and/or funk to our outfits.
It is reassuring though, that nature so palpably goes through cycles as well-- kind of makes my ups and downs feel more, like, organic, ya know? And when you (I) think about it, it's kind of hilarious that it's at those points where the transitions are most tangible that we all get sick. I'm not really sure about the exact scientific details, but something about the pollination of my immune system with a thrust of barometric pressure...
Whatever the reason, it seems clear that while things are actually constantly changing (great phrase), it is only at that point where the borders of two season-boxes begin to really chafe against one another that we all generally get headaches or colds or are in someway or another thrown off our game.
As though the friction of time rubbing up against our carefully constructed comfort zone (ie. hibernating into the coziness of winter) heats things to a boiling point and we can, on some level, no longer remain ignorant of the ever-present, ever-uninternalized fact that things change. Perpetually. If only because the Earth continues to orbit the Sun.
And in our unyielding humanity, almost-cute-in-a-pathetic-sort-of-way, we match those natural forces stride-for-stride with a seemingly equally as innate tendency to create illusions to the contrary.
And so, when all of a sudden it becomes freaking unavoidably clear that things are ACTUALLY CHANGING ALL THE TIME, and we have no choice but to toe the line of that routinized box of winter or summer or school or a job or a hobby or a relationship, it can be really jarring!
Without a conscious awareness throughout the winter months that the season is simply running its course, and that even when the snow is up to your knees it will still melt away, fall, melt, and fall again, the forced realization of the reality of change can be painfully abrupt. Especially when it's prefaced by TURNING OUR HUMANMADE CLOCKS FORWARD AT SOME PREORDAINED POINT ON OUR HUMANMADE CALENDER, THEREBY ALTERING "TIME" ITSELF--- I mean, couldn't we ease ourselves into things with a communal circle-dance or something, rather than engage in so ontologically/existentially/metaphysically confusing an endeavor? Honestly, it's no wonder we fall flat on our faces every time the seasons change, even if it is onto a lovely outdoor patio, and even if there is a pitcher of sangria waiting for us! The proof is in the collective chapped nostrils, people.
This is not to say that if you get sick just as the seasons are changing, it's probably because you're ignorant as to the underlying impermanent nature of reality-- if that were the case, we'd probably all spend our whole lives sneezing. I just think it's an interesting parallel to draw between nature and human nature, at least in this climate-- I'm not really sure how the concept holds as we drift closer to the ecuator.
What I mean is, I think (not original thought, obvz) we have a tendency to deny or avoid or ignore or overlook change, even though it's always goin' down. And the more we do that, the more we are allowing ourselves to nuzzle into a comfort zone and cuddle with an illusion of permanence, and the more difficult it is to deal with change when it slaps us in the face and robs us of that security blanket-- ie. when seasons are on cusp of one another and our environment is so tangibly in a state of flux.
I guess this all could have been summed up by saying: Isn't it interesting that just like we often experience powerful reactions when things in our lives change, we also get sick when the seasons change? Maybe if we somehow acknowledged that things are actually always changing, we wouldn't freak out as much when more obvious changes occur. Oh, and I have a cold and am feeling sorry for myself. But it's heavily mixed in with self-loathing because the people of Japan are dealing with devastating natural disasters and a potential nuclear meltdown, and I just. can't. wrap my head around it. or get out of my own head enough to think about way more pressing, critical, and real issues instead of my own relatively trivial bullshit.
Anyways, I'm really hoping to spend this summer in the Yukon! Read: 21 hours of sunlight a day! Please feel free to drop by if you are in the area, for some great chills in a climate that even further facilitates an ignorance to the reality of change!
Incidentally, does anyone know of any jobs or places to live in Dawson City? Or of anyone selling a car in Vancouver that is extremely inexpensive but also has the endurance and character to make it to the Yukon and back? WOOHOO!
And yes I did just essentialize the seasons (omitting fall and spring entirely) and pit them against one another in an extremely linear and evaluative manner. But like I said, I'm a hypocrite. And so are you. So we might as well be able to chill on patios while we contradict ourselves. And wear scarves not out of brutal necessity, but to add a splash of colour and/or funk to our outfits.
It is reassuring though, that nature so palpably goes through cycles as well-- kind of makes my ups and downs feel more, like, organic, ya know? And when you (I) think about it, it's kind of hilarious that it's at those points where the transitions are most tangible that we all get sick. I'm not really sure about the exact scientific details, but something about the pollination of my immune system with a thrust of barometric pressure...
Whatever the reason, it seems clear that while things are actually constantly changing (great phrase), it is only at that point where the borders of two season-boxes begin to really chafe against one another that we all generally get headaches or colds or are in someway or another thrown off our game.
As though the friction of time rubbing up against our carefully constructed comfort zone (ie. hibernating into the coziness of winter) heats things to a boiling point and we can, on some level, no longer remain ignorant of the ever-present, ever-uninternalized fact that things change. Perpetually. If only because the Earth continues to orbit the Sun.
And in our unyielding humanity, almost-cute-in-a-pathetic-sort-of-way, we match those natural forces stride-for-stride with a seemingly equally as innate tendency to create illusions to the contrary.
And so, when all of a sudden it becomes freaking unavoidably clear that things are ACTUALLY CHANGING ALL THE TIME, and we have no choice but to toe the line of that routinized box of winter or summer or school or a job or a hobby or a relationship, it can be really jarring!
Without a conscious awareness throughout the winter months that the season is simply running its course, and that even when the snow is up to your knees it will still melt away, fall, melt, and fall again, the forced realization of the reality of change can be painfully abrupt. Especially when it's prefaced by TURNING OUR HUMANMADE CLOCKS FORWARD AT SOME PREORDAINED POINT ON OUR HUMANMADE CALENDER, THEREBY ALTERING "TIME" ITSELF--- I mean, couldn't we ease ourselves into things with a communal circle-dance or something, rather than engage in so ontologically/existentially/metaphysically confusing an endeavor? Honestly, it's no wonder we fall flat on our faces every time the seasons change, even if it is onto a lovely outdoor patio, and even if there is a pitcher of sangria waiting for us! The proof is in the collective chapped nostrils, people.
This is not to say that if you get sick just as the seasons are changing, it's probably because you're ignorant as to the underlying impermanent nature of reality-- if that were the case, we'd probably all spend our whole lives sneezing. I just think it's an interesting parallel to draw between nature and human nature, at least in this climate-- I'm not really sure how the concept holds as we drift closer to the ecuator.
What I mean is, I think (not original thought, obvz) we have a tendency to deny or avoid or ignore or overlook change, even though it's always goin' down. And the more we do that, the more we are allowing ourselves to nuzzle into a comfort zone and cuddle with an illusion of permanence, and the more difficult it is to deal with change when it slaps us in the face and robs us of that security blanket-- ie. when seasons are on cusp of one another and our environment is so tangibly in a state of flux.
I guess this all could have been summed up by saying: Isn't it interesting that just like we often experience powerful reactions when things in our lives change, we also get sick when the seasons change? Maybe if we somehow acknowledged that things are actually always changing, we wouldn't freak out as much when more obvious changes occur. Oh, and I have a cold and am feeling sorry for myself. But it's heavily mixed in with self-loathing because the people of Japan are dealing with devastating natural disasters and a potential nuclear meltdown, and I just. can't. wrap my head around it. or get out of my own head enough to think about way more pressing, critical, and real issues instead of my own relatively trivial bullshit.
Anyways, I'm really hoping to spend this summer in the Yukon! Read: 21 hours of sunlight a day! Please feel free to drop by if you are in the area, for some great chills in a climate that even further facilitates an ignorance to the reality of change!
Incidentally, does anyone know of any jobs or places to live in Dawson City? Or of anyone selling a car in Vancouver that is extremely inexpensive but also has the endurance and character to make it to the Yukon and back? WOOHOO!
