Sweating it out on a hot almost-summer night

(Autumn wishes. Photo by Robin. 2006)

I can’t complain, but sometimes I still do.

~ Joe Walsh

It’s been hot here in Sabbaticalville. All the heat of the universe seems to have gathered in our 5th floor apartment. I’ve been sweating non-stop for decades. Or maybe it’s days or hours, but who can tell the difference at this point? I’m waiting to spontaneously combust, become nothing but ashes, a black mark on the ceiling leaving people wondering, “What happened to her??”

Waves of heat wash over me, well up from within me. My internal thermostat is broken by The Change. Internal heat adds to external heat.

I am becoming Fire.

I want to go somewhere cool and refreshing. I looked through my photos from the cooler months, rejecting those that take me to snow and ice. Instead I find myself wanting to be in a crisp, cool autumn day. The kind of day that brings the last great explosion of colors before it all turns gray, black, and white. Before the real cold and wind whip in and blow away all hints of warmth and color, when winter begins to move in to stay a while.

Right now, as the heat is getting to me and the pain creeps back into my life, I want to be hiking up a hill on one of those cool, crisp, incredibly sharp autumn days. I can picture myself there, following my husband (the guy with the red backpack in the above photo), breathing in the fresh air and maybe even feeling a slight and very enjoyable chill. My legs, hips and back are all working as they should, loose and without pain. My lungs are filling with refreshing air. My skin is cool.

And as I sit here in the heat, imagining myself somewhere else, lightning is flashing, thunder is booming, wind is gusting. A cool front is coming. Rain will fall soon. It may very well be dripping out there as I type. With the rain will come some cooler temperatures. 80’s instead of 90’s.

The 80’s will be such a relief that I’ll no longer feel the need to escape to a past and future autumn. I’ll be able to enjoy the moment, just as it is.

I wish I could learn to do that with both the heat and the pain.

Alchemy

(Along the lake at Longwood Gardens. Photo by Robin. 2007)

Alchemy is accepting everything in the pot without trying to reject or correct it — seeing that even the negative is part of the learning and healing.

~ Tara Bennett-Goleman