calling for clear skies

Parker Palmer on winter: "Another gift [winter gives us] is the reminder that times of dormancy and deep rest are essential to all living things. [Nature] has gone underground to renew itself and prepare for spring.  Winter is a time when we are admonished, and even inclined, to do the same for ourselves" (from Let Your Life Speak).

A few weeks ago, this scene would have looked quite different - shiny and sparkly, the sky a little darker in the moonlight of the shortest winter days, brightly lit with reds, greens, whites and other festive colors.  Houses were adorned with pine and red ribbons.  Lighted characters of Christmas gathered on the lawns.  Nearly every house in our neighborhood was lit.

Now, in the calm of January, the neighborhood sits still and silent.  I was surprised, this night, to see a neighbor walking the streets (it was a balmy 42 degrees!).  The landscape screams more of whites and greys and an occasional pale blue.  Lights are few and many houses dark as I return home from work each evening.

The earth and trees and gardens are resting, renewing, refueling for there is work to be done in spring and summer.  It's funny how connected my mind and spirit are to the seasons.  How cyclical my motivation and energy and thoughts. . .

"Winter has an even greater gift to give.  It comes when the sky is clear, the sun is brilliant, the trees are bare, and the first snow is yet to come.  It is the utter gift of clarity." (Palmer)

Clarity.

Each January I spend an inordinate amount of time and energy reorganizing and reconfiguring our house as we put the Christmas decorations away.  Shelves are emptied and cleaned.  Furniture rearranged.  Toys and games reorganized. I've always been that way.

It's funny how thoughtless this process used to be and how I now see it as preparation.  It's about cleansing - a way to start fresh, remove the distractions from my view, and embark, again, on a journey toward clarity.

Winter has only begun.  Same with the rest that nature calls us to.  I'm hopeful for my share of clear blue days that keep my perspective and spirit fresh and renewed.  

Welcome winter.

A little late.

But . . . welcome!