Why is it we keep talking about the weather?
The one phenomenon of life that we cannot do anything about?
Because it affects us?
Because it affects us so personally?
Vowing never to complain about the cold, after the heat, after seriously and deeply complaining about the heat, I continue to vow not to complain about the cold.
But I do feel it.
“Put on an extra sweater”.
I did.
Also a jacket.
Two jackets.
Warmer at last.
Not complaining, happy.
Rugged up, as they say, hereabouts.
But feeling.
And thinking.
About ways to keep warm.
Energy.
Expense.
Climate change.
The world as we know it ending.
Because of me.
In those questionable moments- should I or shouldn’t I?
Turn on the heater?
No.
Yes.
(I can afford it.)
(Lucky me.)
(Unlucky others.)
I use it so seldom, once in a while is ok.
Like now.
No.
My grand indulgence is using the timer on the a/c so that I arrive in the meditation room 15 +/- minutes after it goes on so the room is warmed up.
Turn it off.
Immediately.
Warm. For the duration.
The a/c unit heats the whole (small) meditation room (early morning). I notice it is colder on the floor where I sit, warmer when I stand up. Can’t/don’t like to meditate standing up, anyway body needs more coverings standing up.
Buy a small electric heater? Are they called space heaters?
Better for heating small spaces. My small space.
What is the energy saving? Is there an energy saving?
Who to ask? Who knows?
Much colder this morning, so left it on a while, and then…it went off. Meanwhile the meditation was about heaters and pros and cons. Meanwhile the a/c fixer can’t come til four mornings from now. No place to buy an electric unit til then either.
More blankets, a third jacket.
Meanwhile there’s the fireplace/stove in the library where I spend evenings. Carrying the heaviest logs the other day made me think: this does not happen by itself.
Picking up sticks for kindling, that is fun. In the afternoon sun, fun.
Heaving the logs into the trailer is ok. Lifting them out and stacking them is another thing. Ok, slowly. Not happening by itself.
Should I worry about the smoke that goes up the chimney?
Into the atmosphere?
Contributing to another layer of the End of the World?
At least it is our wood, our dead trees, our broken branches. Keeping me warm instead of decomposing, rotting into the earth. But maybe the earth is better for them rotting there, better than creating that smoke, better than keeping me warm?
The always surprising thing about this cold weather is the change in my energy levels. For so long, months and months, it seems years, of hot summer, lying down. Having to lie down, exhausted, all the time. Often. Listless, weak, tired. I used to think it was Age at last caught up with me. But come the cold, and Age is gone. Back to work. So much less lying down. Up and at it.
No more listless.
Energetic.
The cold.