Waking up I raise the blind, at first a little bit resigned that it's
another day of low ceiling, no blue sky to be had. But THEN I realize
it's snowing, big fat fluffy flakes and I am immediately cheered.
How
beautiful the falling snow. It fills me with gratitude for its beauty,
with comfort for its quiet steadiness. with peace for the silence it
brings.
Curious I step outside to check the
thermometer. A few degrees above freezing, right where it's been stuck
for these past several days. Down on the road I hear a city kind of
sound - many tires moving through slush, only in slow motion. I can't
see past the trees at the bottom of the meadow, but I suddenly
understand what I'm hearing - a logging truck - all those tires are on
one vehicle. And that vehicle is creeping down the road, a sign of how
treacherous the driving must be.
We are at the mercy of
the seasons. And why should it be any other way. Even when I first woke
and saw simply grey sky, there was a part of me reaching for
connection, reaching for a place of inhaling deep breaths of this grey
day and feeling with a satisfied heart how good it is to be alive. The
trick, of course, is to let that part lead me into the day, cheerful
and grateful.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
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Gyllian, my dear one, all of your writing is so exquisite it actually takes my breath away. Thank you for the being that you are...so many times I have offered up my gratitude that you are in this world, able to articulate the fierce beauty of it all, and for doing more than your part to heal so much that is broken. I love you deeply. Your friend, Josanne
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