Dog Days
The dog days of winter nip at my heels
hoping they might catch a bite.
Brain's in full gear though I'm sluggish at best;
no part of me feels quite right.
Mind's full of thoughts that I'd rather not think -
how can a body this tired
carry a brain that might burn itself out
like battery that's expired?
I will outrun them, though effort is hard -
they nip at my Achilles' heel.
Dogs in my head snarl while running amok.
I will outrun what's not real.
Barking gets loud and I might turn to look ,
though there is nothing to see.
Things we fear most can be own CGI,
built in our brains and set free.
Dog days of winter will always give chase
filling our minds with self-doubt.
We choose to leash them, or give them free reign;
it's kinder to not let them out.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, February 23rd, 2022
Winter is hard for a lot of us, and some winters are worse than others. These past few winters have been particularly difficult because of Covid lock downs and mandates. It's easy to feel under-stimulated and overwrought. In times like these, a little frostbite of the soul is understandable, even for the most mentally healthy among us.
Try to imagine how difficult these past few winters have been on the many who struggled with mental health issues before life became more complicated. Or those who routinely battle depression in the winter. Now add on a layer of financial stress, some loneliness, perhaps a few difficult relationships. We really don't know who among us is most affected by the complex times we've endured. It would be nice to think that being largely separated from each other would make us all more compassionate, more willing to consider another person's point of view, but everywhere we look we can see evidence to the contrary. Humanity seems to be becoming less humane as we see more polarization among differing factions. Some wave a red flag in front of the dogs at their heels that clearly says, "Bite me!" Others just feel hounded.
I often feel hounded.
It's probably safe to say that most of us have become increasingly "Covid crotchety" - we are tired of masking, stock shortages at the supermarket, financial problems, lack of social contact, and trying to keep up with ever-changing mandates. Many of us have had enough of the non-compliance we see around us, and the entitled screaming for their "rights" and "freedom" from the very restrictions that their gatherings prolong. These people refuse to understand that their behaviors are viewed as a threat to the rest of us, and that in some cases they try to push their presence on others who just don't want to get sick. (I'm sixty, and diabetic, and I don't want contact with those who refuse to get vaccines. It's not that I'm being "mean" - I just want to self-protect. Your choice to not be vaccinated comes with consequences.) I've called off my own dogs where this subject is concerned - I refuse to engage with anyone who wants to make me fear vaccines. Choose what you will, but I don't want to hear about it. Call off your own damn dogs, okay?
We live in a world that has much bigger problems than most in North America have experienced even during the pandemic. I feel hounded by societal problems, by poverty, by climate change, by lack of affordable housing. Don't any of these "freedom fighters" ever look beyond the ends of their own maskless noses to see people who experience real hardship?
I constantly remind myself to shut off my brain. It's not helpful to obsess about what's wrong with the world, or to feel guilty because I have more than many - especially when I know I'm making efforts to be kinder to the planet, to share the safe haven that is my home, and to consume less. I'm trying to be kind and inclusive and empathetic. The dogs in my own brain bark loudest and are the hardest to silence. Sometimes I just need to talk..
In the winter of our discontent, we can feel torn between the need for meaningful connection, and the need to void the negativity, unkindness and divisiveness that is so pervasive on social media. For those of us who too easily absorb negative energy around us, it can become necessary to take steps to disengage. Talking to close friends and family can be enervating, but nothing depletes precious emotional reserves faster than interacting with arrogant, argumentative people who are too quick to jump in with uninvited criticism of our feelings, intellect or opinions. While I understand the importance of the "Let's Talk" campaign, it's important to carefully choose with whom we share deep thoughts and feelings - some are far too quick to judge and too slow to empathize. It's okay to disengage and disconnect sometimes; to cocoon ourselves in protective layers of peace and quiet while we read, craft or watch Netfix. Having a network of people you can share your feelings with is important, but not everyone is well equipped for the deeper conversations we may yearn for. It's important to share with caution - sometimes even those with good intentions respond in ways that can make us feel worse. If you feel the need to talk, be sure to choose someone who understands how to listen.
That said, there are times when we need to honour our decisions to be selectively mute. You don't need to apologize for wanting to be alone sometimes, for not feeling motivated to make a lot of phone calls, or for avoiding the company of people who make you feel drained. One thing the pandemic has taught me is that many people enjoy stirring up negativity - especially on social media where they can be as rude as they want without ever having to look others in the eye and acknowledge that their words have become weaponized. I doubt that I'm the only person who has drastically altered my Facebook feed over the past two years.
Everybody has their own dogma - but none of us need to sic those "dogs" on everyone we come into contact with. It's winter, we're tired, and it's hard to outrun the hounds of hell when there's ice everywhere.
Chain up your "dogs"!
