the light returns
Every morning, an alarm chimes at 08:00, a reminder to take my meds.
I first take some pills, then stumble to the bathroom to use my inhaler, and then go back to the bedroom to take my vitamins.
It may sound silly, but for me that time is sacred, a moment to observe my life. I never talk, I never do anything other than taking my medication, quietly observing the small section of the world that is my bedroom, halway and bathroom.
My medication time is in its essence a meditation. A meditation on the seasons.
In autumn I always am sad in the first day I have to start turning on lights, because the mornings are starting to get too dark for my eyes.
It isn't an uncomfortable sadness. It just is.
Earlier this week, I noticed that I didn't have to turn on the lights anymore.
Yesterday, I didn't even shiver when walking to the bathroom. I looked up at the skylight when a bird landed on it, tippy-tapping to not slide off. It squawked, and soared off again.
I smiled.
Spring is definitely coming.