Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Wandering Mystic Meditation From Bear Country

Snow Flowers by C Morley
Note to self: become bear-like / in these winter months / slow down to a soft snore / lumbering willingly / into my cave / embrace rest and darkness / to rejuvenate then emerge / in spring ravenous / to begin again.

It's winter once more, a time that always blows in with an urge to flee—to blithely take off for some warm, beachy, watery, absolutely-othery place than where I am.

Some winters have been deliciously beachy and othery. Most haven't. This year is one of those. Although, there is a beach getaway gestating in conversations for January? February?

This month I will be traveling, but it will be to my cave, that quiet place where I will (after a time) be able to discern what is superfluous, what is merely a pale imagining, what is begging for attention, and what is asking to be let go.

Then, at some moment when neurons, silence, warmth and unexpected inspiration come together, I will know in my cells what project, writing, or other endeavor is ready, willing and able to emerge—fat, fidgety and fertile—on the other side of winter.

Of course, there will be hard frosts, hard days, hard moods. Yet, the sap will still be waiting to run at the smallest opportunity—there will be no turning back once this bursting forth begins.

Bear Emerging From Hibernation

Wherever you are and however you are hunkering down in preparation for another inevitable and invincible cycle of seasons, may you embrace the cycle wholeheartedly. May you burst forth into the new year with a vibrancy that shocks and delights.

Nancy G. Shapiro is a coach and writer who conducts writing and well-being retreats at LifePath Center and other locales.

1 comment:

  1. Ah, Bruno, you look so tired... why not go to sleep for three months?

    I'm not actually supposed to talk about snow, Nancy. I love it too much, and when I mention it, I have to pay a cuss jar.