Monday, August 26, 2013

URSUS TEMPUS…BAHHHH!

The enchantingly saturated colors of this morning's natural abstract view of the Cottage Pool, just below the front deck…which I confess I snuck outdoors to photograph.



For the past couple of weeks, I've been trying to quash a persistent infection. The first cycle of antibiotics proved insufficient, though it took a day or two after I'd finished the medication to realize the infection—which quickly flared back up with a vengeance—had not been resolved. Because things had the potential of becoming serious, I began a second round of antibiotics…which I'll complete in a day or two.

The upshot is that I've spent little time working and no time galavanting around armed with a camera. I wrote those columns whose deadline loomed, answered a handful of blog comments, and otherwise minded doctor's orders to do nothing other than take it easy…which hasn't been at all easy. 

I feel pretty good, and maybe that's the problem. Not that I want to feel bad. But forcing myself to be inactive is tough—even when I know it's for my own good.  Especially now, in late summer.

As Ecclesiastes so wisely notes, "To everything there is a season." This is certainly true for me. Different seasons call for different activities, which in turn cultivate different moods and mindsets. Spring prompts renewed vigor, activity-filled days of eager, vernal rediscovery. Autumn means preparedness, taking stock, reaping the harvest, getting ready, saying your long farewell. And summer? Well summer is for languidly savoring the slow lush turn, finding the honey tree and sipping its sweet nectar. 

Forced inactivity, taking it easy indoors, is reserved for winter. For what I like to think of as Ursus Tempus, Bear Time. 

I can do Bear Time. Even enjoy it. I just can't do it in summer.  

16 comments:

Rowan said...

Sorry to hear that you're under the weather Grizz - hope this round of antibiotics does the trick. I'm not much good at sitting around either but I'm better at it in summer than any other time - I don't do heat and humidity and the older I get the more I don't do them:) Hopefully you'll be ready to reap harvest and take stock by the time autumn arrives.

Gail said...

HI GRIZZ - the picture of the river pool colors are glorious. Thank you.
I am sorry to her you are battling an infection. And not to rain on your infection, but so am I. This is my third round of antibiotics with threats of hospitalization for IV antibiotics. (UTI) Just awful. I have been struggling since March, on and off.
I write a post about my new scooter I just ordered and has set off lots of emotion. Hope you get a moment. And hope we both are "clear" of any infection. Geesh!!
Love Gail
peace......

Grizz………… said...

Rowan…

Thank you. I'm trying to be optimistic about this second antibiotic series, but I may have to switch to something else. The next few days will tell the tale.

Like you, my dislike of heat and humidity seems to increase with every passing year—and I was never much of a fan of either. And while I like to laze around and take it easy during the summer—doing nothing particularly strenuous for any length of time—I like to do the bulk of this relaxing outdoors, not cooped up inside. By contrast, come winter, when sleet rattles against the windowpanes and the cutting north wind moans around the eaves, I like to hunker close to the fire—insulated from the elements, warm, cozy, taking delight in this "slow time" to read, listen to music, or just ponder the shape and direction and meaning of those things which are both mystery and vitally important.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Thank you. You know me, I love these "abstract" water shots, which is why I can't resist posting one from time to time.

Like you, I'm also trying to avoid the threat of hospitalization for IV antibiotics. I hope we both manage to whip our infections with home meds.

I'll read your scooter post…but I imagine you're going though a range of emotions, positive and negative, regarding the need to make such a decision—what it will do to open up and enrich your life, and what it says about having reached this particular point. My dear friend Frank dealt with the same issues when he ordered a scooter. I suspect everyone must in, in their own way, come to terms with such matters. The thing to keep foremost in mind is this: the scooter has nothing to do with with who you are; neither does it reflect your condition. And it certainly doesn't prescribe or even shape your future. It is simply a coping tool. A way of thumbing your nose at unasked for obstacles. Like following a backcountry trail, coming upon a small, rushing stream, and having to figure a way to get across while keeping your feet dry.

A good thing, your scooter.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I like the idea of Bear time Grizz and think I agree with you - it is easier to do in Winter.

Gail said...

HI AGAIN, "thank you" for your kindness, understanding, and wonderful shared wisdom.
Love Gail
peace.....

Rowan said...

Grizz - you make winter sound really appealing:)

Carolyn H said...

Grizz: I hope you are soon better and back up to speed. I like the idea of winter being "bear time," though. I'll have to remember that one!

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

Yes, I always see winter as the naturally contemplative season—which is my "bear" version of hibernating.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Enjoy you scooter for what it provides, a door to easier mobility and thus better days and times. And try to not run over Skipp more than a few times the first week!

Grizz………… said...

Rowan…

Winter IS appealing…at least to me. I like winter; always have.

Grizz………… said...

Carolyn…

Thank you, and trust me—I'm doing all I can to fix this problem and get on with the things I want and need to do.

Re. Bear Time: Don't you find that those of us whose hearts and minds and interest are chiefly "outdoors," involved in nature, do themselves adopt natural timeframes—circadian rhythms, seasonal cycles? To us, nature's time and patterns are normal. They seem right. More right than clocks and calendars. Nature's ways, too. I know there are times when I tend to think—and quite possibly act—more like a Canada goose, smallmouth bass, or chinquapin oak than a human.

(Dear God…I am going crazy, aren't I!)

AfromTO said...

hi-your body is telling you it wants to slow done right this moment-do it or it will stop you in its tracks.I will email you a message-

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

Alas, you're right. And I know that, having learned—more than once!—the hard way. Which is why I've listened to the logic side of my brain and quelled my impatience and usual bullheadedness. In spite of my natural instincts, I've done my best to do the right thing.

The good news is that I'm improving; the bad news is that I really need to give it a few more days, just to be on the safe side.

FYI, I'm relieved and delighted to hear from you after a too-long hiatus. I've both wondered and worried, and more than once thought I should write. Please do write. I'm looking forward to hearing more.

AfromTO said...

sent email to both your addresses because last time I tried it just dissappeared into the ethernet.

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

The internet does occasionally, without provocation, waylay and apparently eat stuff. Your communications did not come make it here, I promise.