Some of you may be sick of snow by now, but here in Georgia I miss it.
The last two days, I have even sat outside leaving the kitchen door wide open.
Still, it's January. Where's the snow?
I find my snow online.
This is a picture by Joan Halifax taken at the Zen center, Upaya.
Just this morning as I padded round the kitchen in my daily get-to-work routine, part of me bemoaned the fact of how life seems to be such a dreary process of one step in front of the other just now.
No particular pain. No particular gain.
So try not to complain,
(You can always write bad poetry)
apparently,
Spontaneously.
That was the trouble I decided.
I am not laughing enough these days.
And I reflected upon a recent conversation I'd had with Sandy.
She was writing the final submission for a series of inspirational articles in her local paper from a doctor's point of view.
Trouble was, she didn't feel inspired.
Uncle Eddie's death made her sad.
One of her patients had just died, and
"Michael, my little anorexic, drove through a horrendous snow storm yesterday to see me. I don't know how he made it. I have an appointment with him on Friday, but he may be dead. He is dying and I cannot help him."
Well, next day an envelope arrived with a copy of Sandy's article.
She'd ended with Ecclesiastes ... "and a time for every purpose under heaven."
So, it's Winter now.
Rest.
Feel the profound comfort of being tucked in warm and sheltered.
Use your eyes...
Sometimes grey is beautiful.
Can you see how it might be perfect?
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