Call it hibernation, meditation, contemplation or introspection...there comes a time to create and a time to vegetate. I am in the latter.
Snowed in, time slows to a seductive crawl, the world looks, sounds and smells different. Under the whitest of conditions there is no way to look forward, one either reviews the past or is fully in the present. Mulling is not just for cider, it is for the brain and the body and these last several days I have made it a major task. Rise and rest. Lounge in that mental state which is not quite asleep and not fully awake...drift, soar, imagine but stay still. Smell, feel, taste but record nothing. In a day or two my body and brain will tire of this retreat into nothingness but for the moment it is a filled prescription. I will absorb it now as the fire will soon be stoked to a full roar and then, then there will not be enough light in the day nor air in the room to accomplish all that will want to be done! Soon enough.
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