Alienated from my light

Sometimes I like to hum loudly to drown out the howl of the biting wind whipping me in the face like this. I pray for an emotional calm as I trudge in this blizzard, seeking a faint light in the distant, a reassurance that I haven’t been swallowed whole by this storm. I stopped trying to warm my hands, curled up with cold, and I can feel my body slow down as a fog of despair starts moving through my mind ; what if I never find a way out of this? Am I just trying to postpone the inevitable?

Life, for me, is the most critical in these moments because if I stop I don’t think I’ll be able to recover the momentum to start back up again. Frantically searching for even a wisp of hope, a sign of life, flicking through the archive of my mind to see if I can recall if anyone has mentioned pushing past this threshold before. In my ears, my heartbeat is pulsating with the poisonous doubt that has entered my blood stream. I slow down as I’m flooded with the memories of all the times I persevered in vain and my efforts were for naught. I feel like a knot in my stomach shot up to my throat, like an inverse punch. Warmth spreads through me as I create a light out of the certain futility of trying. My tears well up and my nose is tickling with a cold sensation. I don’t see the blizzard anymore or hear the ferocious winds whipping past me. I feel like I’ve arrived, and I know I don’t have to suffer the expansive loneliness of this unending blizzard anymore.

I was not swallowed whole by the blizzard, but I helplessly succumbed to it. I calmly walked towards what had snuffed out my light.


Image : Cottage on an island near Nora, Sweden. By Jonas Loiske.

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