Transition Soup

“Now is the winter of our discontent…”

Without getting into who won and why and how, it is obvious that there are a lot of pissed off people out there over this recently past election.

I am one of them. Well, maybe not pissed off, but then, I am not sure what I am. It changes from day to day. Suffice it to say, this is not life as we have known it. More correctly, it doesn’t FEEL like life as we have known it. Like I wrote last week, the sky has not fallen, although finally, here on November 17th, we are getting our first snowfall in Boulder CO. We have not had any precipitation is quite some time, so this is extremely welcome, especially for those that always welcome snow.

I am not one of those.

But today, I have the luxury of being able to stay in, make some soup and watch the snow. Today, the sky IS falling… in beautiful, pure white flakes and although, I would rather be on a beach listening to the waves lap up on shore, this will allow me to be inside, physically and metaphorically.

Finally, we can make that transition into winter, like normal…

Normal… I’m not sure what that is right now, and certainly wouldn’t be placing any bets on what that will look like in the near future.

In a week, I have gone from disbelief (incredulous would be more like it) to confusion, to anger to resignation and depression. Sounds a bit like a grieving process but I know myself well enough to know that I will get back on an even, optimistic keel. But I am not there yet.

We are coming into winter, and there will be much discontent, but that too shall pass.

The rest of that Shakespearean line goes “…made glorious summer by this son of York;

And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house

In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. (I’m not really a Shakespeare fan, but geez, he could turn a phrase, couldn’t he?)

Spring will come, with all its rebirth and promise and who knows…

Change is inevitable: Some external, some internal but either way, we transition into what is next.

But today?

Today I’m making soup.