Snow, snow and more snow. Oh my! I must say that I have so little appreciation for all things cold and with winter dawning enthusiastically, I find myself dreaming of balmy nights and the swaying ebb and flow of sea on sand. Now I know how unproductive and un-present that is. I am not so far immersed in self pitying to miss my rebellion against what IS and yet when the snow falls in cascades of white, blanketing the city, I can't help but appreciate the beauty with a melancholic longing for Spring.
When everything looks bleak and the darkness cramps against the cold, it takes courage to simply look out from imagined isolation toward the wide horizon of beauty available in every moment. It takes courage to lean into the sea of life and trust the tide. When weary limbs no longer support us, it takes courage to trust our inner buoyancy and float. It takes courage, in the face of darkness, to remember the light and sit in all our apparent blindness and listen, silently, to the still, small whisper within. It takes courage, in that dark hour, when nothing else remains. Eyes closed. Eyes opened. A glimpse, a memory, a fleeting vision of a light so bright it blurs the borders of things seen and things perceived into a comprehensive wholeness of being. It takes courage.
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