There was a lot of snow. So we weren’t going anywhere for a while. Sunday we laughed and talked, wondering if we’d have to part in the morning after all because the predicted snow had not materialised. But then we got up in the morning to a marshmallow world.
The quiet is quite remarkable. Mary, Amy and I spent the better part of the day reading together on the porch while the fire crackled, consuming endless cups of tea (well, maybe that was mostly me). About midday a couple of deer appeared in the grove to have their meal. They kept a watchful eye on us but the crows told them there was nothing to worry about.
The stillness of being snowbound affords an opportunity to relish the peace of Universal Pathways in a new way. I know I’m always rushing here and there, but I do treasure the moments of silence and stillness. It’s easy to get caught up in the constant demands: everybody wants everything now.
A thick blanket of snow says no. You’re not going anywhere. There’s no WiFi, no phone reception (for me anyway), so things that ‘have to be done’ have to wait. The incredible luxury of reading a book from beginning to end — and then reading another one! — restores a sense of balance.
Closing your eyes and really listening to the silence and discovering that it’s not really silence: the fire crackles, pages rustle, the wind whistles, and the crows spread gossip. The world is so alive in that silence. It’s the things we overlook. This is a quiet oasis. Breathe in the wood scent. Taste the flavours of the soup. Enjoy the rare opportunity to disappear into the world of books without a guilty eye on the clock.
And finally dig yourself out, take a deep breath, and plunge back into life renewed. Take with you the assurance that you will be back soon, the recognition of the importance of silence and stillness, and a determination to keep your priorities clear.