an eerie calm has settled over the old house this evening. This last week had brought the season's most formidable blizzard, where the veritable whiteout one regarded by peering out the window was a devine deception, exacerbated by the rapid frosting of one's breath on the glass. While some forty centimetres later the precipitation abated, the wind decided to wear out its welcome by residing in a perpetual gale over a period of a few days . Even now, whistles like air raid sirens reverberate in my mind, my torso remains sentient of each vibration from gust after gust crashing into a century old foundation, and my limbs yet tremble from the residual chill of drafts biloughing through century old panes.

Yet just beyond my personal perimeter all is silent, excepting Delerium's Daylight sounding softly from the mini speakers on the desk in front of me:

if you can believe you're turning all the world that broke your mind

then I can do something for you even though you're lost in time

you won't have to be my heaven. I won't have to be your friend
daylight, daylight comes every time it's calling
daylight, daylight it goes away again

don't let go don't let go of your heart
don't let go don't let go of your heart

feel like your skin is burning into many drops of rain
but it's doing nothing to me drowning in a sea of pain

you won't have to be my heaven. I won't have to be your friend
oh daylight, daylight comes every time it's calling
daylight, daylight it goes away again

don't let go don't let go of your heart
don't let go don't you know who you are
don't let go don't let go of your heart
don't let go don't let go of your heart

- lyrics by Matthew Sweet

I certainly have been chasing my own share of daylight lately.

Just as I have a ray in my grasp, radiance tickling tips, it caresses fingers I cannot clasp, before it inevitably slips.

Then daylight turns tide, suddenly surrounding me in ephiphany.

I fail to be one's heaven, I encumber cherished friends. My heart holds back the cave in, while I search for who I am.

So onward I trudge, being ever mindful to keep the winds of change at my back. I intend to sup on joy at least once per day, for I am told it is more nourishing to the soul while requiring much smaller quantities.

I may need a nudge every so often, even an about face on the rarest of occasions, but I'll be sure to report what I have managed to consume.

I am starting to hear quiet inside.

 

Be Well