“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.” – Thich Nhat Hang
Dec. 8, 2:30pm, Chilkat River Beach. Windy! 35 degrees. Rain, flurries, then rolling clouds.
The weather this morning was so bad it was astonishing. Amazing. Epic. Hilarious. Driving rain, wind, snow and rain, more rain. It came at you not like from a hose, but as if someone was flinging ice water out of a bucket. Real sheets of rain. I made it to the pool and swam inside in the warm water, then headed to a hospice board meeting, ducking as a I raced from my car to the door.
I really did not want to take a walk when I returned, but knew I had to. For the dogs sake (if not yours)–
But, well, my friend Beth had a party to go to, and Chip decided to put up the Christmas tree before the real storm gets here tomorrow. I moved furniture and vacuumed and made the kind of mess you do when you prepare a space for the tree so your husband can drag into the house, and then cleaned up afterward, and was a bit grumpy about it. The house feels too crowded already and now we hauled in a tree, and I had not planned to do this today. The dogs weren’t keen on it either.
As I put the room back together, I listened to the radio and learned a new word. “Uitwaaien”. I don’t know how to pronounce it. It’s Dutch and has no direct translation in English. They use it to describe a walk to clear the clutter from your brain. The radio announcer called it one of those lemons- to lemonade traditions since, it is connected to living in a very windy country and making the most of it. The wind is good for you! A forceful dose of fresh air cleans the cobwebs out of places a dust rag won’t reach.
It reminds me of Hygge, another good word that the Danes use this time of year when it is cold, gray, dark and wet there. Hygge responds to the grim outdoors with making the indoors extra cozy. Wearing old sweaters, a fire in the hearth, eating cake. Uitwaaien is all about going outside, but like Hygge, it requires challenging weather and usually involves another person. Company. Also, interestingly, it’s not about counting steps or exercise. It’s supposed to be a refreshing stroll for your inner well-being.
I’m glad I procrastinated because when Beth called and asked if I had walked yet, I hadn’t, and the living room was back together. We dressed in our toughest rain gear (green rubber) but the rain quit a few minutes after we stepped out, and it was, we agreed, very nice. Surprisingly refreshing. And you know what? The big old breath of the wind changed my mood for the better. When I returned, I put on an old sweater, ate a bowl of soup and thought about baking some brownies. But first I need to find some lights for that tree.
