“Sometimes you feel sad and you can’t quite put your finger on why. It’s not one acute sorrow that’s eating you. You feel in a way the whole of life calls for tears.”¹
Wanted or unwanted, the sun tilts and the Northern hemisphere shifts to cold..
spaces around me shift with the distancing sun, so too, my inner space.
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I think in life there are seasons of melancholy as well.
Times when raucous “Facebook” announcements ring noisy.. false.
Sometimes, life can fall short of our dreams..
It is tiring to pretend that it doesn’t.
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Tired of the social media pretense.. I sometimes feel like checking out..
Making a cup of tea..
rearranging and bringing in bits of nature around my home..
snapping a photo of early morning light.
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“and I will make thee beds of roses”
Despite all, we cannot promise ourselves, our children.. that life will not disappoint
that we won’t lose those we love
that the path we choose won’t have challenges.
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All smiles and boisterous laughter is so exhausting.. even frenzied sometimes,
and so I crave.. I cherish..
the quiet mood..
the wistful dream..
this longing for “real” that feels more
“right” than anything.
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Scarves bundle to warm necks, heavy sweaters cocoon, leashes are clicked as I walk the paths slashed with slanted early morning sun and shadow.
I choose to exist in melancholy..
“somber, pensive, moody” call it what you will..
to walk and reminisce with sadness of what was once tender, simpler days and times, or those friends that may have been lost.
Because joined with the memory of what was.. is the longing to relive.. to hope for what might be again.
..something “true”
not something imagined in an ad for the perfect life.
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When I can escape, I abandon the noisy gym and ramble the prairie scrub, wander along the path at Weaselhead or the off-leash for exercise,
lay awake in bed at night with windows wide open to hear the soft hoot of the owl that for some strange reason has found home in a tree nearby,
amaze at hundreds of crows streaming overhead in pursuit of..what?
Rejoice in a puppy playing in the leaves for the first time in her life.
Arrange colors of fruit in a wooden bowl so that it pleases my eye… rich deep purple of plum, crisp apple and ripe pear red..
Porcelain mugs are changed out for thick, hand-thrown pottery,
heavy throws are brought out
and I turn on Elgar.. or Bach..
light candles and
revel in the quiet with my nose in a book and my family nearby.
That scarf I started knitting two winters ago might even get finished.
None.. are quite “social-media” worthy, but I’m more than ok with that.
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Life lived feels fuller, seems to have more value, when I acknowledge both the good and the bad taken together…
superficial happiness makes life feel common, the happier times less extraordinary.
Melancholy has its place, they say, because it unites us
for no one person can look at another and know all of them
in that single glance.
No one person can know the disappointments, hurt and pain that other person may have experienced.
Behind the triumphant grins and selfie poses.. are those who, too, must feel melancholy but choose not to acknowledge or perhaps just not share it..
or are too busy trying to run from it.
If we all have experienced life’s pain, empathy must triumph…
if we stop and take care to look, we will see it in each other’s eyes.
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¹Thoughts today were inspired by an article in Philosopher’s Mail called “In Praise of Melancholy”
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I love cooking nourishing food from scratch when I’m in one of these pensive moods. This time I was inspired by a Chatelaine magazine recipe.. while it looked nothing like the cover, was as comforting as soup can be. I tweaked it a bit by adding more spices, so adjust the seasoning to taste. I’ve decided acorn squash is my new favourite, it has a much sweeter note than butternut squash soup.
- 1 kg or 7 cups acorn squash (I used two quite large acorns, not the smallish ones you typically see)
- 1 tbsp vegetable oil, divided
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1/2 large onion, chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 tsp chili powder
- 1/2 tsp cumin
- 1/2 tsp cloves
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 3 cups vegetable broth
- 1 cup water
- 1/4 cup heavy (35%) cream
- to garnish:
- 1/2 cup roasted and salted sunflower seeds
- sour cream
- Cut the two acorn squashs in half then scrape out and discard the seeds. Place one squash face down in a microwave safe baking dish, loosely cover with waxed paper and add 1" of water. Microwave on high for about 4 minutes, rotate and cook on high for another 4 minutes. Turn and cook again for 4 more minutes (a total of 12 minutes) until squash is soft and pulp is darker in color and cooked through. Repeat for the other squash.
- Meanwhile, heat the oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until it softens and is lightly brown, about 5 minutes. Add the minced garlic cloves, chili powder, cumin, cloves, cinnamon and salt. Cook another minute.
- Cut the pulp from the flesh of the squash, chopping into cubes. Add the cubed squash to the pot and cook another 2 minutes. Pour in the broth and water and bring to a simmer. Cook, partially covered, until the squash is completely tender, about 20-25 minutes.
- Purée with a hand held immersion blender or blend in batches in a blender. Serve in and top with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkle of sunflower seeds.
I think next time I would try steaming a few extra smaller acorns and use those as serving bowls.
I love this. Melancholy certainly has a place in my life. It is cyclical and vital to my creative endeavors.
Thanks for sharing
Absolutely true! I hadn’t considered this point, but creativity is so enhanced by feelings of melancholy.. it’s some of my most productive times. There would be some interesting research here, maybe it’s been done?
Wonderful to have one of your beautiful poems to start my day….
Hope you are doing well, melancholy unfortunately is part of life, and sometimes we just have to hang in there, waiting for it to run its course….
Thanks Sally:) I’m fortunate that it does always just run it’s course for me.. I know some struggle more with this long-term, but I think that’s more than simple melancholy.. it always is good to get help in that case I think..
Wow! I was just blown away by this post. The photography, the poetry, the mood of it – it all went together so perfectly. And even though it was about melancholy, it had a ring of hope to it. I don’t think most of us know how to deal very well with melancholy. Your post made me want to embrace it as part of life. Thank you!
Thanks so much, Shari:) I hope there is hope written in there, there is relief in acknowledging that we all have those days I think.
What a terrific post! Love the writing, and the photos are superb. And the recipe — which is wonderful! — is such a nice bonus. Really, really good — thanks.
Thanks John, we loved that soup.. might have to make it again:)
Boy does that sky look like fall. The tone of light changes in the fall too, not just the leaves. It’s getting chilly here too, time to bring out the heavy throws and furry slippers!
You know that sky well, Eva! It’s getting colder by the day, yikes!
Nicely done, Barbara. As you say, I think everyone, more often than they would admit, experiences varying degrees of melancholy. It’s just a natural thing, a reaction of the psyche when things reach a level of mental chaos and the mind and body start to build self protective walls. Nice job with the photos too. 🙂
What a cozy post! Autumn and cool weather make me want to hunker down and sort of get in a hibernation mode! I love warm weather and sunshine, but I also do love being cozy in my home in the fall and winter months. The grey skies can make me melancholy, but a nice hot bowl of soup is always comforting and brightens those grey days!
I love how raw + honest this post was. Melancholy is definitely a part of everyone’s life, and saying otherwise is tiring. Thanks for this honest piece 🙂
This is such a lovely post, Bar. The writings, the photos, the soup. All are magazine-worthy. It’s such a pleasure to read — which makes this all the more embarrassing…
My blog continued to “drop” people while I was away. I’ve been so far behind that I don’t even realize that posts are missing. Seeing your comment on my blog made me realize that I’ve not been here in some time. I am sorry, Barb, for not realizing sooner that you had disappeared. I’m just about caught up now and hope I can stay on top of things a little better. Of course, a little help from WP wouldn’t hurt either.
I’m going to unsubscribe and subscribe your blog in an effort to improve things. Have a great night and week!
Beautiful gorgeous photos!!! But please remember to credit the original source of your recipes – I noticed this is an adaptation of Chatelaine’s soup recipe in the Oct 14 issue.
Thanks for your kind words, but, seriously.. if you had even read my blog post you would have seen that there is a very clear paragraph giving credit to Chatelaine magazine.
[…] to find time between work and family to be as creative as I used to.. and that makes me melancholy (remember that poem.. it had a few people worried about me, lol). I love to devote my “all” to everything and […]