A white blanket of snow has covered the landscape outside my door. There is a peaceful feeling of tranquility that washes over me when the snow first falls. It stirs the child within. I have never lost that wonder of being a child in the snow. I long to go outside and make snow angels. When enough snow as fallen, I gather up my odd assortment of winter gear and step into the outfit I have donned for the day. Perhaps I won't win a fashion contest in this getup, but I will be warm and dry. The list of winter gear is a wee bit long, but necessary. One must be prepared for the winter snow and colder temperatures where I live in Minnesota.
I put on an old pair of charcoal gray Sessions snow pants that used to belong to my youngest son. He wore them in middle school and they fit me and they look almost as good as they did 15 years ago when we purchased them. They were definitely worth the money.
I step into my cozy, fleece-lined, brownish gray, leather, Merrill snow boots with rubber soles. I put on my violet colored stocking cap and slip into my black, puffy, down-filled jacket. I finish up my winter fashion ensemble with a pair of black, waterproof, Hot Finger mittens. Ah, I am finally ready to go outside and make snow angels...I mean to shovel. After I finish shoveling the sidewalks and driveway, I lie down in the snow on my back and breathe in the crisp air. I take my time making the most beautiful angel in the snow. I have always loved to make snow angels in the pure, white, fresh, powder before anyone walks on the snow. That feeling has never gone away.
I move my arms up and down at my sides creating magnificent wings. At the same time, I move my legs in and out to create the body of the angel. I close my eyes and I listen to my heart beating to the sound of snow softly falling on me and all around me. I feel the snowflakes on my face, like hundreds of tiny kisses of love from above. I open my mouth wide to catch the falling snow that is heaven sent. I feel alive, childlike, and oh, so, very present.
I say a prayer to the angels and my loved ones in heaven. The snow cover always brings a certain and profound hush to my ears and fills my heart with grace. Winter brings a soft and deep silent reverence. It comes from the layers of snow that insulate the land. A stillness within me echoes winter's calling for peace, quiet, and reflection. I follow her lead.
As I lay supine on the blanket of white snow making my snow angel, I pause my movement and I close my eyes in order to see clearer. I open my mind and my heart in order to feel everything. I breathe deeply into my heart center. I fill up with breath and I am able to touch the love inside and outside of me for there is no separation. The white snow is a symbol for purity and innocence. My soul whispers to me in the quiet. Words I can only hear through the silence. She tells me to keep writing and that insightful words will come to me and flow out like a faucet. Everything is in divine order and will fall into place. Surrender your ego to your soul's knowing and connect to what is true and the rest falls away. This message makes me feel peaceful and reminds me to get my ego out of the way. Control is the twin of judgement and they can't live in the same space as trust and faith.
In that moment, I could feel my connection to everything in the universe. I allowed everything to exist and there was complete harmony and balance. My body houses my spirit. I called on the legions of angels that surround me to help me live this day and every day from my highest self. I asked that they infuse my mind, heart, words, and actions with love for the greatest good for me and for all concerned. I whispered, "thank you, angels, thank you, guides, and thank you to all my team of helpers in heaven." When I live from a grounded state of awareness, speak and write my truths, sage wisdom will continue to flow forth. This was a sacred and profound moment. I may have missed it had I only shoveled.
It is beginning to get dark outside. I get up carefully from the ground not to mess up my snow angel and I trudge back inside to warm up from making snow angels, shoveling, and listening to new insights. I removed my mittens, hat, boots, coat, and snow pants and hung them up to dry in the brightly lit mudroom with the colorful earth colored tiles. I am so incredibly grateful to have warm clothes to wear out in the winter elements and I am always grateful to have a warm home in which to enter from the elements and a place to dwell.
I walked into the kitchen, turned on the lights, and filled the stainless steel electric tea kettle with water. I placed it on the heating element, and patiently waited for the water to boil. I went to the cupboard where I have a delicious selection of teas stored in a wooden box I painted the color of turquoise with the words, Be Still, painted on it. I chose a green tea with jasmine. I took one of my favorite tea cups out of the cupboard, put the teabag in the cup and when the water was boiled, I made myself a hot cup of tea. Making tea is a form of mediation. Tea just makes everything better. I held the warm cup of tea in my hands and I went and stood near the window and watched the snow continue to fall. There are sparkles on the top layer of snow that glisten like an infinite number of precious diamonds that have been scattered upon the sacred ground of mother earth.
As I glanced out at the lush, dark green, Pyramidal Yews that flank my front steps, trees that symbolize life, death, and resurrection and hold a special place in my heart and in my beloved garden. I am in awe at their ability to bear the weight of the gathering snow. Mother nature says, "bow down, they do." Their boughs bend to almost breaking, but don't snap. A sign of balance between what we are asked to carry, what we hold on to, and what we can let go of and surrender. Eventually, the wind will lift the snow from the tree's branches, letting it go, sending the branches gently back into place and the flakes are sent into a shimmering, swirling, dance before scattering the snow to the ground. Nature always has something to teach, something to share, and all are revealed when I take the time to notice.
Angela O'Brien-Greywitt, Intuitive Mystic
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