Another Shift

09.09.20

Whenever the seasons start to change – specifically going from Summer to Fall – and the air begins to chill and everything seems to be a little more consistently grey outside, my mood shifts downward and I find myself in prolonged states of sudden and lasting melancholy. If I wake up and see that it’s cloudy and dim outside, I get a sharp feeling of having returned home from somewhere far away and finding nobody there to greet me.

I feel like I miss something and I have no idea what it is, or maybe that I’m somehow missing out on something. There is a dull and persistent ache; some inexplicable but poignant longing that I can’t shake off, and it distracts me for the whole day.

During these bouts of gloom, I often think about how I’ve been robbing myself of little joys – tiny acts of self-love – here and there, and I think about how I can return to them. For instance, maybe I’ll start lighting candles again and basking in those bakery smells, or drinking decaf coffee in the living room while I read. Maybe I’ll start sitting on the balcony while it’s still tolerably warm outside, just to look out at the city and think. Joy lives there, in those small details, and that’s something I feel like I constantly forget until autumn comes rolling in and I have this yearning to make myself cozy again.

I’ve always romanticized oversized sweaters and warm drinks on chilly walks. I feel like I write about this every single year. But this year, more than most, has been quiet and contemplative, and I’m kind of excited for the weather outside (and the accompanying moods) to slowly start to reflect that. No more of this bursting sunshine and oppressive heat when there’s barely anywhere for me to go.

I’m looking forward to feeling appropriately quiet and calm and warm in my room – there in my own little sphere of light in the sky on gloomy, cloudy days.