Monday Moanings - February 1, 2016

In-Between Time

The ship of this not quite so ancient mariner has arrived in the quiet eddies of the "in between time". Old Man winter has grown tiresome. He was late arriving to begin with and sulked through January, summoning up only a few feeble signs wintertide. And now it's February. It's time for winter to just give up and go, but he won't of course. He'll drag the anchor.



Unwanted, unwelcome yet predictable, this annual sojourn in the doldrums always appears on my itinerary February. Now one would think that such regularity would give rise to highly effective coping strategies, or even better yet a calculated manoeuvre to avoid this navigational hazard, but no. This vintage mariner, (not ancient but maybe a tad forgetful?), charts the same course every year: smile and wave at the Candlemas Day lighthouse on February 2, take a quick dip in the pool of joy and warmth amongst the Valentine hearts and flowers, and then...

"Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, no breath no motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean."

from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ah but this is no dark place. Along the great wheel of the year, February is an In-Between month - it begins at the midpoint between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox (Brigit's Day) and ends at the very edge of Spring. And the light is returning - at a rate of almost 3 minutes a day!

I am not lost, I know where I am. I know that soon the winds will pick up and I'll be on my way again under full sail. In the mean time, I'll sit up on deck and befriend the calm, smile at winter's last gasps, and await the freshening breeze.  I know what's coming...

©2016 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - June 16, 2014

A Slow Start




Grey damp accompanied by cool breezes gave way to rumbles of thunder and soaking downpours this morning. Not an inspiring beginning to a new day or a new week. The seeds of the doldrums are fertilised by mornings such as this one.

I wrapped my listless groans and grumbles around a steaming mug of cappuccino and soon found myself in the living room of my childhood home tucked up in the comfort of a blanket fort. Cardboard boxes emptied of the grocer's delivery travelled as trains, buses, cars and boats between the tented sofa and chair like gondolas on the canals of Venice.













Ah Venice - now there's a place like no other...

I marvel at the seamless transition from blankets and boxes to canals and gondolas; from one faraway place to another. Time travel is a perfect antidote to mornings like this one, nipping any hint of doldrums in the bud. The rain has stopped. The sun has come out to play. The world outside my door is verdant, dripping with the colours of life.

A new week lies open before me. I'd best get at it.
Enjoy!

©2014 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - February 20, 2014

The Doldrums

The ship of this not quite so ancient mariner has arrived in the doldrums yet again. Unscheduled, unplanned yet always on time, this annual sojourn in the land of idleness always appears on my itinerary in the last weeks of February.

Now one would think that such regularity, such predictability would give rise to highly effective coping strategies, or even better yet a calculated manoeuvre to avoid this navigational hazard, but no. This mariner, vintage, but not ancient (but maybe a tad repetitive?), charts the same course every year: smile and wave at the Candlemas Day lighthouse on Feb. 2, bask in the joy and warmth of Valentine hearts and flowers, and then ...

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, no breath no motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I flail. I toss and turn. I toil away at the coal pile of self-recrimination until one day, time and place click together and it dawns on me that I've sailed into this sea before. In a guilt-laden lament to my beta reader friend earlier today I wrote that I "was dead in the water" with no writing to offer her as our meeting date loomed. Time and place snapped together. Aha!









I know where I am. I know that soon the winds will pick up and I'll be on my way again under full sail. In the mean time, I'll sit up on deck and befriend the calm, enjoy the stillness and await the freshening breeze.
All is well.

©2014 April Hoeller

All Quiet on the Blog

Seems awfully quiet round these parts lately...
Is there nothing to write?
Is there nothing happening out there of even a little interest?
Has the well gone dry?
Has the interest rate collapsed?
Has vintage forgetfulness claimed yet another nouvelle idée?
Have the lights gone out?
Is this a general power failure, or just a rolling brown out?
Is there a point to all these questions?

Don't just sit there. Write SOMETHING!

Oh all right! 
Well I am still here after all.  If you must know, I am languishing in a still pond of apathy -- no energy nor enthusiasm.  BUT -- a pond has limited boundaries, and therefore so does this float in the doldrums.
Back at cha soon!