There’s a lovely breeze blowing with a light crisp autumn chill that refreshes rather than cools the mind. I sit with a warm cup of coffee made fresh this morning by the routine of a family that is not mine and yet indeed is. The sounds of the day begin to move faster as the world around awakens ready to trudge through the greyness that no one finds joyful.
Yet between the shades lies a light where the crackling bits of flame ignite creativity and the neuron synapses fire away attempting to grasp one idea long enough to pull it into some sort of existence. The war between the light and dark wages fiercely between distraction and focus. It is never clear who will win or what the score is, but it is a battle as long as life itself.
Today marks the first day of cutting back on the meds that keep me in a blissful fog of neutrality. The spastic “Monica” in me is looking forward to having more control over my organizational functionalities again so that my false sense of calm returns to a known reality. The chilled out “kitten” in me is wary of what the lack of help may bring out, but in the end a yawn and stretching of the claws always leads back to a nap to reset the days.
So, in two weeks time I will again reflect upon the stimuli around me and ponder the responses of my brain as various meditative techniques work themselves into a new routine as a proactive self-help mechanism to replace the chemical alterations provided.
Who knows, perhaps the lifting of the fog will be like the wintry weather where the sun shines amidst the cold.