ecnecselodA

A winter’s fog has settled on Halcyon Pond. Cold and heavy, it has settled on my heart. Winter comes and goes, some days bright and warm, reminders that spring will return. Others, cold and morose, remind that all of us will meet our end; an end?; a new beginning?

And so am I. Some days I feel spry, young, ready. Others are filled with aches and anxieties, awareness of an aging body leaving the mind behind.

The body and mind travel a strange trajectory together. Early in life, with no awareness, the body does as it will, with no interference from the mind. Awareness grows, the body grows until at adolescence body and mind struggle for dominance. The body has grown beyond the mind’s reach. The mind searches for identity inside this unfamiliar body.

These struggles evolve, an integrated body-mind emerges. There is an identity, a Self. One moves about one’s life with a relative ease, born of harmony between body and mind.

But then autumn comes and cold breezes start to warn of winter. The body complains when an over-eager mind wants to do too much. The body and mind start to travel separate paths. Until a second transition–a reverse adolescence–is reached. Again the mind struggles with identity. Who am I if my body won’t do what my mind still strives for? We are faced once again with discovering self; redefining Self. Or finding the Self that transcends body-mind.

We can see this “ecnecseloda” as an ending. Or see it as a bridge to a new beginning. We can descend into a fog, defeated. Or rather sink into the fog, relieved of external stimuli, free to contemplate and prepare for whatever is next. Then, as the fog lifts, we are left with crystals of awareness, like water droplets hanging on a gossamer web, glistening in the warming sun.

7 Comments

Add yours →

  1. The pond is darling, and so are you. I think you’re quite a way off from separating your mind from your body but I think that as we evolve, we grow into a comfortable space where we can explore being ourselves in a different format.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think you speak for many of us: Things we feel or know but can not say. Beware the winter fog. That said, it has it’s own beauty.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Beautiful and thought provoking post. I often respond to the imposed introspection of continual gray skies. Hibernation has a certain appeal that is difficult to resist. Over the years of gray skies though, I have come to abandon anticipation. Once I begin working on something I find momentum usually takes over….at a slower pace and without the distraction of sunnier seasons. It’s that initial “get going” impetus, particularly as I age, that is missing so I ignore its absence. A nap isn’t a bad idea either! Lovely to have found you!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: