As I sit to write, another winter storm rolls in. The mild temperatures and melting snow of the past week or so, the patches of grass that were lusciously beginning to reveal themselves, are again a thing of the past. At least for now. Inevitably, the snow will indeed melt and the sun will reign supreme once again. But not nearly soon enough. I want it now.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't matter. It does and I'm antsy. The warmer, sunnier days helped, but Mother Nature is a tease. She tempts us and then when we put away our heaviest winter gear, whomps us again. I like lazy Sunday afternoons like the best of them. I especially like snow days. But not now. Not like this. Why is she doing this to me?!?
Boo hoo! Of course that's what I'd like to believe -- that this is personal. That on some level the Universe and Mother Nature have conspired to torture me. But the truth is, what happens, happens. What is, is. We are not victims, but simply here in this experience. It's winter in Minnesota -- what do I expect? It's up to us to respond to what is before us, not react to the perceived injustice of the situation because it doesn't match what we want it to be.
Outside the window, the squirrels and birds will not be deterred. The cardinals that began singing in earnest from the treetops a week ago in the warmth, continue. The squirrels never cease their pillaging of the feeders. The weather is the weather and they live their lives, doing what they do, being who they are, one song and one snack at a time. Why should we be any different?
I haven't written on time these past few weeks, frankly because the weather warmed up and I was out in the world more. Life called for me to be more active and I responded to the call, which left less time to sit and contemplate and write. Understandable and in being with what is. But I'm uncomfortable with that. I made a commitment to write every Tuesday and with the past few weeks being busier, I haven't held up my end of the bargain...even if no one notices but me. It feels like a slippery slope -- if I'm not writing now, if I'm willing to let part of the commitment go, will the whole project fall apart? Or am I just being dramatic because it fuels the desire to react rather than respond...to force rather than surrender?
More likely, I'm moving into another phase of the process. Life has been pretty mellow the past month or so and I've gotten used to it, gotten used to the routine. Then things begin to change...the weather became warmer, I became more comfortable stretching my wings and getting out in the world more. Like the pendulum ride I mentioned over the holidays, there is a time for activity and a time for solitude and contemplation. When we force one or the other we get antsy. When we're present, there is room for what is needed. And consequently, because we are in flow with what is called for, there is peace.
When we allow ourselves to surrender to what is, we aren't giving up...we are simply letting go of the need to fight, to control and to be right. It occurs to me that this, above all, may be the true reason I've undertaken this journey to invite meditation into my day-to-day: I've spent the better part of my life at war with myself either expecting circumstances to be different, or worse, myself. I'm happy to make the space to let that go...and to let acceptance and compassion and love take its place.
The tricky part is remembering all over again, how to surrender. Gratefully, this experience is yet another reminder.
Today, if I go with what is, is easy...a fire in the fireplace, a steaming cup of tea and a write of this blog. And so I respond accordingly. I'll save the song and the snack for later...//