Walking in the Snow

Walking in the snow: 

there's a new blanket of snow waiting for me this morning, several inches atop the last layer of just a few days ago. It's bitter cold as well, in the teens, and the sun hasn't risen yet to offer me its warming rays. I'll head out for a few miles this morning, two is usually the minimum, walking briskly, although the snow will slow me down considerably. I don't enjoy this weather, winter is a season that brings my low level depression to the forefront, everything becomes more difficult by degrees, struggling for a sense of equilibrium,comfort and ease. Winter - makes these harder to find. 

but still, I head out in the snow. 

my earliest morning walk calls to me.

and I answer everyday.

regardless of the weather. 

I could call this therapy, a healing dose of nature, or even part of my spiritual practice. They would all be true. But really, it's just walking in the snow, without need of a specific label. It's simply what I do, and even in the worst weather there's a deep joy found in simply being outdoors, venturing out in darkness with hours still before sunrise. Walking in the snow, especially at this time, reveals the underlying silence of the world. Any noise made is quickly reabsorbed by a hush that seems to hang in the air to collect every sound. It's magical, and worth the extra layers of clothes, the initial shock of cold that greets me and eventually seeps past the layers and reaches to my bones. 

walking in the snow isn't easy, there is little comfort no matter how warm I try and dress. But it's right outside my door where the magic is found, and there's little choice involved in my heading out to brace the cold. Every morning reveals some slice of mystery, different for each season and condition, and I no longer try and rationalize my need to join with it. 

it's simply what I do.

and walking in the snow...

reveals my own belonging to the mystery.

~

Peace, Eric