The past few weeks have held many, many things. But this morning I get to sit, looking out of our front window at the gently falling snow, and reconnect with my writing self, my quiet self, and my warm and furry dog (the last one, a bit strange, yes, but big, hairy dogs are quite wonderful this time of year.)
Today feels somewhat like standing at the top of a huge sledding hill, looking out at the well traveled path ahead, but still learning the turns and curves that are veiled with this year's new snow.
It's a huge and steep hill, for the next months will be a fast paced ride. And in sledding one really doesn't have time to plot the course, but rather we react to what comes, and rely on our vision that we had at the top.
So as I stand at the top, looking out toward the valleys which hold the Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter free falls of joy, the Advent and Lent tree-shaded difficult paths, and the Epiphany moments of bright light, I stand in wonder at this whirlwind ride that is about to begin.
It will pass in a flash of light, and when we reach the bottom, we gather up our sleds, our strewn out mittens and boots, pulling them together to begin climbing back to the top to begin our ride again next year.
So with a deep breath, a quick sign of the cross and a jump start... we're off!
2 comments:
One of my favorite parts of sledding was always trudging exhausted into the house, slapping the wet mittens on the wood burning stove in the basement, and receiving a cup of hot chocolate as my hair stood up from being under a hat and my sock-toes flapped wet.
May you receive the gift of warmth in the midst of these next days and months.
WOW - you nailed it. that is a damn good post. it is exactly what my interior self has been feeling lately... but such a chicken i am, i look at the path and wonder if there's any other possible way down...
better keep buying that Espresso blend for awhile.
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