The part of Canada that I live in is known for its sunny skies. It’s the one thing that makes it bearable when the temperature drops to minus 40 degrees Celsius. And we won’t even talk about the fact that we have seven months of winter here. So seeing the sun is my one solace when I start to wish I were living in some tropical paradise where everything would be right with the world and all of my troubles and sorrows would be left behind along with my toque and mitts!
But while Canada’s west coast experienced an earthquake off of the coast of the former Queen Charlotte Islands, putting parts of the west coast and Hawaii on tsunami watch and Hurricane Sandy was wreaking havoc on the east coast, we had a bit of our own weird weather happening. Now, I know that this doesn’t even come close to being on the same scale. I have friends and acquaintances on both sides of the continent that were in my thoughts and prayers and I am thankful they are safe and sound and I grieve for those who were not as fortunate.
The happenings in my own back yard really caught me off guard. We had a couple of days of pretty nice weather. Sure the nights were chilly but that is a given here. We probably only get a few nice evenings in the heart of summer where we don’t have to pull out a sweater to keep the chill off. I was enjoying the warm, sunny days, but then, bam!, the next day we get snow. And then the sun decides it isn’t going to be able to break through the cloud cover. And this persists for 12 days straight.
Life can be like that too, though. Things can get so bleak and gray at times. And you know the light is there, behind all that cloud cover, but you can’t feel it’s rays on your face and you miss being able to bask in the light. And you wait. Wait for the clouds to disperse. But you don’t know when. Then doubt sets in. Maybe the light won’t be back for a while yet. Or will it ever return? No that’s not logical. It has to, doesn’t it? It doesn’t take long to even forget how much pleasure you got from it. Maybe it wasn’t as wonderful as you seemed to remember.
Then, it happens. Suddenly, you become fully aware that the fog has lifted and the beams of light have returned. After a few cycles of this though, it takes its toll. You realize that you need to be proactive and prepare yourself for the next time, for there will be a next time. You need to make sure your reserves are always topped up so that you don’t become depleted when a longer than usual stretch of gray skies happen.
Today, the sun did shine. My daughter was quite ecstatic when she saw it this morning. As for preparing, I have decided to try one of these light therapy units that are supposed to help counter the effects of S.A.D. aka Seasonal Affective Disorder. I decided to try this unit from Philips that our local is carrying. And I will continue to use the D-Drops that my doctor recommended last month.
With any luck, maybe these will help to take the edge off of some of life’s storms, too. In the meantime, I am going to enjoy the sun while it’s here.