A Play Of Light During Caffeine Withdrawal

(enlarge webcam photos for full effect)

Last night as I was about to go to bed after my third day of a steady headache from caffeine withdrawal, I looked at the webcam of Yosemite Valley and Half Dome and ended up staying awake for another 45 minutes to watch the play of light that held my attention despite the headache and my weariness.

This is the 4th time I've gone through caffeine withdrawal.  Until I was 30 years old and was in the process of returning to college to finish up my Bachelor's degree in English Literature and Art, I didn't drink coffee at all.  I had lived with low-level depression and lack of energy all my life, and the discovery of the positive effects of coffee seemed to be like magic.  Suddenly I felt better than I had ever felt.  I could stay awake all day long and was full of creative energy.  Then I began to develop withdrawal headaches if I missed my caffeine dosage and developed gastritis with accompanying nausea and lack of appetite.  I continued using caffeine for at least a year beyond the onset of those symptoms until I felt ill on a daily basis -- worse than I had ever felt.  After the first 5-day withdrawal from caffeine, I vowed never to drink coffee again despite how much I missed the lifting of my spirits that coffee gave me.

In the late summer of 2007, in hopes of becoming a massage therapist, I was studying for an anatomy and physiology challenge exam and experimented briefly with caffeine.  I decided against taking the challenge exam, and instead made plans to undergo an intensive yoga teacher training.   In late September of 2007, while taking that rigorous yoga teacher training, I began using caffeine again so that I would have enough energy to wake up before 5 a.m. and go to sleep after 9 p.m. Again, I was delighted by the feeling of creative energy.  I did experience headaches, but I continued using caffeine until 2009, when recurring headaches were undermining my sense of well-being.  I knew what to expect from withdrawal and vowed again that I was through with caffeine.

In 2010, while starting a new job after being unemployed for several years, I chose to use caffeine to keep me awake for the entire workday and to give me that added sense of well-being.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the job didn't turn out well, and I ended up quitting the job in despair.  During this time of caffeine use, my pulse and blood pressure began to rise alarmingly, and I suffered from recurrent headaches.  Once again, I withdrew from caffeine.  My pulse and blood pressure returned to normal, and the frequency of headaches lessened.

At the beginning of this May, during a stressful period where I was called for jury duty, I decided to try using caffeine again. In addition to needing the energy for the days of jury duty, I was and am acutely aware of my need to find a job, and I question whether I have the energy for even a part-time workday. At first, I had that wonderful lifting of my spirits and high energy. Then I began to wake up in the mornings with a dull headache that would leave only after I had some caffeine in my system.

Given that I had been waking up feeling unusually good for the past few months, the artificial lifting of my spirits from the caffeine didn't compensate for the dull headache I was having upon awakening, and so I decided to go through caffeine withdrawal again.

I know that in the next few days I will be feeling much better than I do now.  Will have to find another way to a sense of well-being and energy that lasts the whole day long.

I am grateful for that play of light during caffeine withdrawal.

"When one finally arrives at the point where schedules are forgotten, and becomes immersed in ancient rhythms, one begins to live."
(Sigurd F. Olson)

RANGE OF LIGHT

The term “Range of Light” was coined in the following passage by John Muir. “After ten years spent in the heart of it, rejoicing and wondering, bathing in its glorious floods of light, seeing the sunbursts of morning among its icy peaks, the noonday radiance on the trees and rocks and snow, the flush of alpenglow, and a thousand dashing waterfalls with their marvelous abundance of irised spray, it still seems to above all others the Range of Light.”

Am in a quiet mood this morning, thinking about my friend who is recovering from a stroke, remembering that my friend is the one who introduced me to the writing of John Muir in 1970, remembering our trip to the gates of Yosemite on the first day of October in 2001, remembering that day and feeling grateful to all who have sent kind thoughts and prayers to my friend who is presently in the VA Hospital in Palo Alto, California. As I mentioned before, he is unable to speak but is able to write. I have not heard from him yet. I hope to talk with a chaplain at the VA Hospital this morning.

When I look at this photo, John Muir's face reminds me of my friend's face when we were still in our 30s. I remember that time we were facing each other while sitting in rocking chairs on the deck of a house overlooking the Pacific Ocean, a house where he was doing carpentry work. We talked about art and our separate but connected lives.

On Tuesday morning, I made a decision to drop the Anatomy and Physiology course I had started and to add an Art History class, to let go of the idea of becoming a Massage Therapist and commit to finding a way to make a living using my natural inclination toward art. The Art History class is decidedly more demanding than the Anatomy and Physiology class, but I know I made a good decision to study 15th to 18th Century Art in the context of a Visual Communications program that will lead me to being able to earn a living in the field of graphic design in the years before I am able to retire.