Rainy Days and Mondays
Today was a quintessential rainy Monday in Door County. The rain came with a flash and then the clouds remained. All day.
After lunch, I caught the song “Rainy Days and Mondays” in my head. There it remained. I’ve listened to a lot of different kinds of music today trying to exorcize that demon. Not that there’s anything wrong with the Carpenter’s, they are just before my time, and not my speed, or personality.
Rainy days and Mondays leave us looking for comfort. I opted for comfort food tonight. I made my mom’s ‘Chicken Pot Pie’ which is horribly misnamed. It does have chicken and it is made in a pot, but my mom never made it into a pie. So chicken, carrots, onions, potatoes, and noodles, hot, and served with whatever bread and a fair amount of salt. I was home for a little while.
It didn’t stop the rain or change the fact that it is Monday, but the right food can reset the week. Dinner tonight restarted things-hopefully for the better. Although the forecast for the week is rain, rain, rain, and then a little warmer for the weekend, and probably more rain.
According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration the doldrums “refer to the belt around the Earth near the equator where sailing ships sometimes get stuck on windless waters.” The doldrums are also known as the Intertropical Convergence Zone. They are known for their monotonous, windless weather.
It feels like we have ventured into the doldrums—a monotonous, windless routine of life. Our complaints repeat themselves. Our joys seem muted and hollow. The normal dips and swales of life have eased into the windless, lostness of day after day and week after week. The urgency seems to have vacated our routine.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge describes the doldrums in his “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”:
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
Just as quickly as the mariner cites the monotony and lifelessness of the doldrums, he conjures the image of life lurking under water, “slimy things did crawl with legs upon the slimy sea.”
We need to remain focused on life and living. The windlessness and monotony of the Intertropical Convergence Zone is also the birthplace of monsoon and hurricane. The calamity of storm relies on the monotony of the doldrums.
To sit for a spell, stranded, but not abandoned, should only inspire us for better days that lay ahead.
I love you.
[I need you.]
I hope for you.
Please be safe.