Winter: An Unbidden Revolt into Nothingness

Photo: Ranch in winter - Ovando, Montana (2017). Copyright SJPhotography.

Winter: An Unbidden Revolt into Nothingness

The seasons of life breathe as the loving rhythm of this world, of nature, and into our lives of flesh and bone. Yet, acceptance of this instinctual rhythm falters at times, and waxes and wanes. The relentless pulse of urgency and song of “what’s next” supersedes our call to rest and pulls us from one moment to the next. We miss out on the brilliant need for Now – for what is extraordinary about this moment and this season. We long for what is ahead while standing indifferent and jaded to what is Here.

I wonder at my own hurry to get to what is next, and for something to be revealed that is new, exciting, and fresh. Tired or bored of the same weathered day in whatever season it may be. But today I am reminded, given clarity and gratitude for the beauty and blessing of this February day. The mountains surrounding me are dusted and covered with snow and ice – like heavy white frosting poured over every peak and range – overflowing and dripping down its sides. Bundled bodies move by quickly on errands and destinations unknown, the grey exhaust of spent heat trails behind each moving car, and spent smoke and ash billow out from neighboring chimney tops – a sign of warmth within. There is a tangible bliss when heat meets frozen fingertips, cold noses, and chilled skin – a welcome relief and contrast of comfort and warmth.

On this February day, I feel liberation and deep relief as I arrive home and realize how tired I am; grateful to let go, unfurl, accept coziness, and the invitation to heed the inner call for rest and stillness. I allow myself to give over to my own instincts for hibernation – and what that means to me. This timeless offering of respite and curing is granted to all even if unrecognized or unappreciated. It is nature’s rhythm – it is the heartbeat and life-giving breath of earth – the ceaseless, seasonal activity of life itself. The cycles of birth to decay – sprout to husk – emerging, nourishing, growing, and ripening to bounty, gathering, and harvest to reseeding, gifting, slowing down, and giving over life unto death, resting and stillness, and back again.

Look to the seasons when choosing your cures.

_Hippocrates, “Writings of Hippocrates”

I give over to the truth of this cold day, this wintery dullness that shades the sun with merging dull clouds creating an endless grey ceiling to my world’s stage. I accept the respite that winter offers me – a time to resign to the wisdom of nature that does not resist but wholly embraces this time of suspense, rest, and fervent dormancy. An unbidden excuse to revolt into nothingness, turn off tv, phone, and tablet; reflect, pause, slumber, unfurl and let what was, and of seasons past dissolve into the ethers of time and space, and let go of “what’s next” to the worries of tomorrow. I am inspired during this Winter season by Winnie the Pooh when he says:

People say nothing is impossible. But I do nothing every day.

_Winnie The Pooh, “Positively Pooh: Timeless Wisdom from Pooh”