I have been, lately, trying to wrap my head around how my mood
is affected by the seasons and the weather. I have been pondering the times I
am at my happiest, and the times I am at my most melancholy (I know it is an
old-school word, like “hysteria” but I love it so). Typically, when things go
as planned, in the winter I am more melancholy and in the summer more euphoric.
This isn’t anything revolutionary; rather, typical of anyone who lives in
Colorado, whose mood is affected by weather, and who doesn’t ski or care much
for ski traffic on I-70 during the winter months.
May and June of 2015, however, has me all tied in knots when
it comes to understanding this.
Usually, when I begin to see crocus’ popping up through snow
covered garden beds, my mood starts shifting from melancholy to the curiosity
of what spring may bring. And then spring begins exploding…tulips and
daffodils, songbirds, a walk on a trail without boots. And then comes the trip
to the Botanic Gardens where I sit in awe.“Where did all these flowers come
from? Just yesterday seemed like winter.” My mood begins to shift;
possibilities lie ahead. I see farmer’s markets in my future, more trips to the
Gardens, sitting by a hot springs or swimming pool. Plans are made; baseball
games, barbeques, outdoor festivals, or just lazy afternoon walks are in the
forecast.
But this year, the rain has seeped into every pore of my
skin. My skin, dotted with mosquito bites from the hatchlings that come with
wet weather and occasional hot and humid days.
As someone who has studied topics in mental health, I am
trying to grasp the notion of positive psychology, where I can attempt to see
the beauty despite the circumstances. Nature feeds my extroverted soul, as I
can have conversations that run deep and wide out in nature and I feel
connected to it all. Art feeds my introverted self, where creating a small
collage, coloring in a mandala, or making someone a card is all I need to
resurrect from feeling saturated, messy, sloshy from all the rain. There has to
be a way to connect these parts of me to the weather so that, when sunshine is
lacking and precipitation is all the rage, I can feel excited, connected,
uplifted…not melancholy. This morning I was uplifted, despite the rain and
while getting an oil change for my car, during a walk along Old South Pearl
Street, where I delighted in colorful and creative window dressings and smells
from coffee shops as the droplets fell around me. I enjoyed a latte at Stella’s,
my favorite coffee shop, and a look at the new art hanging on the walls; I read
all the upcoming event posters attached to doors, walls and hanging from
bulletin boards. I made a list of “summer things to do” inspired by Pearl
Street-eat at that Taqueria; go to a First Friday art walk; make an art piece
that is colorful and inspiring; drink good coffee and drink that at a cozy
coffee shop.
I think I am coming to terms with the fact that my mood,
despite the weather, is dependent on the little joys in life and that I
actually take time to stop and appreciate them. When I do stop and appreciate
these joys, I am uplifted and melancholy stays away. Perhaps I have finally
discovered the secret for which I have been looking all this time.
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