Yes, nature has a way of touching what lies beneath the surface. My inside edition of concerns, about important issues, challenging opinions, on this or that idea or strategy, the facts determining the weight of any situation — all seem small from a distance, like the moon - all kindred “beta” : the business, the busyness, the buzz, the agenda. What we do every day and night to thrive, survive, succeed and give back. Leaving us with little spare time for a deeper reflection.
It’s about knowing something, about our place. in relation to so many techno-bio-energetic and scientific breakthroughs. Who are we? Why wouldn’t we want to live with profoundly knowing, or be able to feel that part of identity beyond the surface, how does what looks like who we are, match up with who we really are? The miraculous quality of the experience of living, whether speaking to oneself in thought or looking at oneself from the inside/out, is true. Take a moment, write that down on a slip of paper, fold it and put it in your wallet. Make sure to unfold it and look at it every day, at least once.
And in the dawn hour it began to snow — it’d been predicted to be a severe storm, up to a foot of snow, high winds. At first, the snow fell softly, daintily sparkling, a reverent peaceful scene. By ten in the morning, chunky snowflakes were coming down heavily, and by noon, the winds had kicked up. Internet fluttered off and on, a mild inconvenience, but soon the winds died down, and when not a flake was falling anywhere, all came to a quiet hush under heavy mounds of snow. We reached the late afternoon hours without losing power, and then came a rosy sunset.
Fortified with soup and hot chocolate, we followed up, pulling on 5 layers of inner/outer gear, and went out to shovel. That was the best time to do it, the storm was over, all was calm, and it would turn into ice overnight, frozen and immovable by tomorrow. The shoveling actually went easily, during which I remembered scenes from “Alaskan Bush People” and realized this would be nothing but a powder-puff for Bird and Rain. Still, I was glad to have powered through it, making the entryways and driveway safer for all who come and go. Skoal! A nordic victory! The snowstorm had a way of making us stop. Growing up I never feared storms, in fact, losing electricity was wonderful – candles, flashlights, peanut butter sandwiches, and we’d eat all the ice cream in the freezer before it melted and sleep by the fireplace crackling with warmth and comfort.
