Climates

External — Internal

The cold wet wind in my face The soul — knowing, knowing still warm and dry

This has occurred to me, bubbled up in me, struck me, quite a few times (yes, in various shapes and strengths): our outer and inner temperatures are not in sync.

I remember working my poop deck cleaning station on the Apollo one morning in the early 70s — Portugal, I think — when the wind was driving in from the outer Atlantic, cold, wet, miserable — I was freezing; could not get things done fast enough and down below into the warm and smelling-of-fresh-bread Doggy Diner for coffee and breakfast.

Then it struck me (hard this time): I was not cold, nor was I miserable. Not on the inside, not in my thoughts and feelings. Quite warm still inside, snug and comfortable, the gale-like, moisture-laden, Azores-originating winds notwithstanding. I put my broom down and essayed to fully and truly notice the difference: face outside, face inside. And there it was, clear as anything: the difference.

Face inside, i.e., mind-temperature: a pleasing 72 or so, sunshine, brilliant sea, a good morning and a great day ahead.

Face outside, i.e., skin-temperature: numbingly cold and no warmth in sight.

I stayed warm and snug in my mind for the rest of the cleaning, then donned my skin and flew down the stair to friends and warm coffee.

© Wolfstuff