Look to this Day

I found it really sad to crawl out of my cozy, buddy-filled bed this morning. I would have loved to lay there for a few extra hours and cuddle until the sun made a sufficient progress in its launch... Nope, 5:58, up I went and off to work. Hi, Ho, Hi, Ho. Even so, my senses are always hyper-stimulated in the mornings. I feel the actuality of the moment, in whatever it might bring and it feels so good. It reminds me of a poem that my 5th grade class used to say at the end of the day. It's beautiful food for thought:

Look to this day, 

for it is life,

the very life of life.

In it's brief course lie all

the realities and truths of existence.

The bliss of growth, 

the splendor of action, 

the glory of power—

For yesterday is but a dream, 

and tomorrow is only a vision, 

but today, well lived,

makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, 

and every tomorrow a vision of hope. 

Look well, therefore, to this day. 

-Sanskrit Proverb

I think this proverb can also be applied wonderfully to moments, not just the day as a whole. Some moments from today:

My body seems to be in a state of fever. I go through patches of shivers, and basically stuff my hands into my pants to stop them from clenching and trembling themselves blue, and then suddenly I'm burning up with so much inner heat that I rip off my jackets, and claw my scarf away from my neck and let my whole being soak up the cool (not cold, actually, air.) I wonder what this is...

Today was my last day at Rosenhill (even though I was originally supposed to be working there tomorrow as well) and when I walked from the bus to the farm this morning, I soaked in the beauty of the fall. I don't even really remember summer or spring, but I also don't want to, because that might make the next 4 months unbearable. I'd rather not head into winter with a premature nostalgia of summer. Maybe in February I can start dreaming about the fragrance of flowers or the hum and buzz of bees, but for now, I'm really enjoying the trees in their unique silhouettes against the white sky, and the few yellowed leaves still clutching onto the tips of the branches.

The light seems to be slipping away faster than I can comprehend. The sun set at 3:49 today and by 5:00 it was pitch black. I had just managed to catch my bus after work with an escaping hue of indigo in the sky. It's quite amazing that I haven't gotten a case of the fatigues yet, and I'm not depressed. In Germany I was whining my ass off at this time of the year. Maybe the medical school experience really was the most horrible introduction to a winter that I could have gotten.

After clonking over the threshold of the apartment with a huge bag of chard and kale from the farm, some groceries and my giant jacket and boots and relieving myself of all these artifacts, I let my body feel the weight of all the work I've done at Rosenhill this fall. It's been quite a load to work there full time. When I work I perpetually reek of onions and a sickeningly sweet smell, reminiscent of funnel-cakes. I can't stand it. I hate to wash my hair too often, but there's no way I can fall asleep at night smelling like an "Bloomin' Onion" doused in corn syrup. Blechhh! Today were were scrubbing the kitchen from ceiling to floor and trying not to freeze to death, because there is no heating, and one of the hot water heaters is and has been broken for the past month. Mud is the trending ground cover (the health inspector would have a heart attack!) and the constantly rupturing drains and pipes don't help the situation, when they inundate the floor with dirty-dishwasher-water.

I've really reached my limit with the filth, and when I stood under the stream of searing hot water in the shower I decided that rather, a bath was in order. I exfoliated myself for a good 20 minutes with those scratchy gloves that take away dead skin, and the water instantly turned a grayish-brown. It was repulsive and when I drained the bath there was a dark gray ring around the tub. Hjälp! Vad äckligt! (Help! How Disgusting!) But now I feel clean again and hopefully after a long night's sleep I'll be back to normal. I'm really looking forward to being able to wear whatever clothes I want again, and not have to worry about them permanently adopting fragrances of greasy foods. The weird thing is, that Rosenhill actually serves really healthy food... I'll never understand where the dirt comes from, but it does. And no matter how often I shower it off, it returns. Every single day. 

After my bath I felt like I was going to burn the air around me, and threw open the window. Hanna (my flatmate and friend) came home and asked me if I wasn't freezing. Within 5 minutes I was, and hopped into my warmest hoodie and knee socks and pulled the window back into place. I hope I'm not coming down with something... maybe it's just caffeine withdrawal, or PMS, or the remnants of last night's excursion to my favorite pub....that's probably it, the shadow of a mild and almost unnoticeable hangover.

Speaking of going to a pub, I'll be turning 21 soon. Whoop-dee-doop-dee-doo. The actual age means nothing to me, other than if I go back to the states I can buy myself a nice beer. But other than that it doesn't change anything for me. 21 is a beautiful number though. On a super nerdy note, 3 x 7 have always been my favorite factors to multiply. I can't come up with what I should do for my birthday. Brilliantly it falls on a wednesday (actually one of my favorite days of the week) and I'll be spending the whole day in my birthday suit! HAR HAR HAR!

...In any case, today I got a wave of awareness of what I've actually done. I feel it in my bones, the passion that brought me here and that I'm living out every day. Aside from the near-3 weeks I was in Hawaii in July to get my things, I have been in Europe for almost 6 months. Damn, that is an extended vacation. I feel like now that Rosenhill is over I can start to focus on the next step in my life here in Sweden. Where I'll be working, where I might be living (after I leave this apartment), if and when I ever decide to study something, and how I incorporate the things that make me me into every day of my life. But one day at a time. Life is all just one long, wonderful ride and every day counts. Even the nasty ring of scum in the bathtub represents long days of work in which I have learnt and grown, laughed and cried (goddamn onions), and now the page is turning on to November the third, 2013, a slightly shorter and darker day, but with no fewer opportunities than today or yesterday, or any other day in history.