Winter in Solitude
I reflected a great deal on winter and how it relates to my spiritual life. I read something about transitions (which have been such a big part of my life) and it compared the wintertime to the "in-between" time of transitions--the space between the end of one part of life and the beginning of the next. I'm not literally in the in-between (since the new has already started), but my heart is still working in all three parts. Winter allows the quiet peaceful space when one just is, no need to work so hard on becoming the new or grieving what is over.
The trees and the fields really show us that state of quiet being--and without that time of fallowness, they cannot produce leaves or fruit in the coming year. We're a little like that too--we need time to figure out who we are and how we sit with God.
I hiked a bit, and found some interesting things, both in the woods and in my heart...
|(Benedictine hospitality--walking sticks at the head of every trail!)|
I left the abbey really early, and so I stopped when the sun rose (which was not so early--around 8 am!!). The fields were frozen, the sky pink.
I'm grateful for the time to find a sense of myself, to know who I am as I begin (and even have begun) a new way of being in this world.