The September Equinox, also known as “Astronomical Spring”, arrived in New Zealand at 12:43am Monday morning (or, to some, Sunday night…). Metrological Spring, which is what we generally use in this part of the world, began on September firstAs if all that wasn’t confusing enough, there’s a third option: Solar seasons.
Yesterday, Stuff published “Spring has sprung: Understanding the four different season start dates”, which attempts to explain the differences in the various choices for when we declare seasons to begin. Solar Seasons, the article says, relate to relative daylight in each hemisphere, and are six weeks either side of a solstice. It doesn’t say if that’s also true for equinoxes, but, if it is, that would only account for 48 weeks—are the other four weeks a sort of Seasonal Interregnum?.
None of the choices relate to weather, of course, and we’ve had both mild and wintry days/nights since September first, and we still are. In fact, yesterday I had my windows open, but today is a bit less Spring-like.
Seasons relating to weather are the ones we humans may obsess about the most, but we also have seasons in our own lives, something artists frequently refer to in their work. This has something that’s been on my mind lately partly because of the actual seasonal changes, but I’ve been reflective about ever since Nigel died, and especially with the recent fifth “horrible anniversary” of Nigel’s death.
I think it would be more surprising if I wasn’t thinking about the seasons of my life, now that I’m a 65-year-old widower: What is life going to be like for me as I continue aging and face those challenges alone? This is a bigger topic all on its own, and one I’m still trying to wrap my head around, but it’s probably been most noticeable in my relationship to my own health.
Because my parents died when they were younger than I am now, I have no sense of what I may be in for, apart from the fact that since I never smoked, I’m unlikely to face the specific smoking-related health problems they had. Other than that, who knows? The fact that Nigel isn’t hear to help me navigate these uncharted waters makes this even more challenging—and sometimes even terrifying.
Yesterday, I went to see my doctor, the first time I’ve seen him in 2 year, 4 months because of Covid restrictions and the ongoing overwork that most doctors deal with every day because of a shortage of doctors and lack of proper government funding (in fact, the fee the practice charges for a standard 15-minute appointment recently went up 25% to help them cope with fast-rising costs). In the time since my last in-person appointment, I’ve traded secure messages with my doctor using the online patient portal, I had an in-person vitals check, I’ve had annual blood tests, and, of course, I always keep up my vaccinations. I mention all that because I do the ordinary things one does to remain healthy.
My specific complaints were about lightheadedness: I’ve sometimes tried to get out of bed in the morning and felt lightheaded. This is a common enough thing for people on blood pressure medication, however, that’s never happened to me before. Also, one day recently I had a massive head-rush as I walked across a supermarket carpark, something that passed quickly and had no other symptoms.
My doctor said the general lightheadedness was a symptom of getting older, though he didn’t put it like that. It was clearer to me because he mentioned that folks in their 80s often have trouble with the same thing—actually, even more so—but because the don’t have the core or muscle strength to keep themselves steady, they may fall. I know that his point in telling me that was there are natural changes that occur as we age, but this also inadvertently gave me a glimpse of something that may be ahead for me 20 years from now (give or take). It also made me realise I need to take my own fitness more seriously, and work on maintaining muscle mass and core strength—actually, “work on” is being generous: I need to start doing that.
What’s important at the moment is that I’m quite good at monitoring my own health. For example, my Apple Watch records my heart rate many times per day (speaking of which, no more atrial fibrillation!), I sometimes check my blood pressure, and I even check my blood oxygen levels sometimes. All of that is on top og regular things like annual blood tests, routine vaccinations, and even my willingness to contact my doctor if I’m concerned about something, especially things that seem to have changed.
While I’m monitoring my own health and how things are changing as I age, there’s something else about that: I’ve become more relaxed. I’ve written several times about how after Nigel died, I was worried I might die soon, too. Then, it became worry about something happening to me and Nigel not being here to help me—or just to talk me out of my latest health panic—though I wouldn’t be having panics if Nigel was there, of course.
Nowadays, I’m far more relaxed about everything, including, even, my own death. I understand far too well that death is inevitable, and while being good about my own health can help delay that, and possibly improve the quality of my life between now and then, there’s absolutely nothing anyone can do to stop death itself. That’s why I no longer worry about that.
All of this is part, maybe the most visible part, of my ageing and my move into new seasons. I still can’t even guess what my future seasons might be like, buy they’ll arrive whether I’m ready or not. I think that maybe the best any of is can do is to be sensible, keep our eyes open, and to stay grounded. Actually, there’s one more thing: We can try to find more moments of joy, regardless of the season, and that alone will improve literally everything else. It doesn’t matter what we call the seasons or how we mark their beginning or progress. Just like the seasons on our planet, really.
The photo up top is of the trees on my street, the only one I have a good view of out my front window. I took it on Sunday, around nine hours before the September Equinox arrived in New Zealand. Mainly, I was just excited to see the leaves emerging again—always a highlight Spring for me, what with the promise of warm weather to come. And yes, I've share several photos with this same tree in it.
1 comment:
my health... eh. i'm a depression eater until clothes fail to fit...
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