Come walk with me in the peak Autumn beauty of the Northwoods. To say that I love this time of year is an understatement. Most everyone can appreciate the colorful falling leaves---it reveals the 'true self' of a tree when its leaves are no longer producing chlorophyll. Their true colors are revealed, and there is something simple … [Read More...]
An Uncloudy Day
After a long January string of cloudy days, we awakened on Groundhog’s Day to an uncloudy day! From early morning until nightfall, the sun shone brightly on the snow from its angle in the azure blue sky. A whole day of sunlight after coveting peeks and partial showings through the cloudy days! It came with a price, though—the Arctic air that swooshed down from Canada. Not only was the air temperature at a nice round zero degrees, but a northwest wind flew in at seventeen mph making the wind chill more than 20 below. Ouch! I had a strong desire to be out in the sun, but the wind and brittle cold quickly turned my thinly-gloved fingers into icicles and stung my cheeks to rosy red.
But the sunlight was glorious! It lit up places between the trees that had been somber with grayness for weeks on end. I had almost forgotten about shadows! The contrast of bright sunshine on the snow and the blue shadows was sharp and telling. The shadows help show the story of where we are and what’s around us.
Out in the open, the snow was like the desert sand, sculpted and worn by the forces of wind. The blue shadows created their own designs.
A ‘mountaintop’ of snow has covered the roof for months. But even in the chilling temperatures of the Arctic blast, the sun’s strength and warmth begins the slow snow melt.
Winter in the North offers us an overabundance of conditions that challenge us to know who we are. How do we handle the uncontrollable cold and the harsh winds? What do we do with piles of snow and skids of ice? How do we integrate the cloudy stretches and the bright light and dark shadows? Where does it lead us? Where do we go?
After so many cloudy, gray days, the sunshine was so welcomed and wanted. Isn’t it funny how we miss the ordinary things when we are deprived of them for any length of time? Not so funny though—we are fickle humans who want what we want when we want it. But it behooves us to love our lives no matter if the sun is shining or the clouds have hovered over us for weeks or the Arctic winds blast our bodies with frigid cold. This is not to diminish the physiological and psychological benefits the sun can bring us, but a reminder that we each have the power to bring those benefits into our lives, no matter what is going on around us. So it helps to be aware of the grayness, of the blinding brightness, of the blue shadows, of the bone-deep chilliness, and to become cognizant of how we interact and deal with them all. And of course, I don’t just mean the weather.
Living a Grounded Life
I spent a lot of time on the ground when I was a kid. A tractor tire sandbox and the weeping willow tree ‘house’ were my grounded places from my earliest years. Later my siblings and I had forts in the woods–one with boulder walls, rock chairs, and a leaf-covered ‘floor.’ I sat cross-legged on the ground holding chicks and kittens, their downy feathers and fur a wonder to be-held. We rolled down the hills with our arms tight to our sides and stared up at the sky when we came to a stop, waiting for the dizziness to leave our heads. We made snow angels in the soft snow–angels of four different sizes. When I was older, I would sit on the bank of a nearby creek and put my feet in the cold moving water, letting it carry away the heat of humiliation and hurts that accumulate in the life of a teenager.
The Black Lab dog we have used to run down the driveway and romp in the yard when I walked to get the mail. Now, in her ninth year, she walks out the door, lays down in the sunshine, and watches me fetch the mail. Often I join her on the ground when I get back, and the pleasure of the sun and the grass and my company is evident in her eyes.
I haven’t looked at the world from the ground up in far too long!
The evidence of Autumn is right before my eyes, and I realize the graying fur and graying hair make it apparent that Tamba and I are in the Autumn of our lives.
But what a great season it is! It feels good to lay in the sunshine and roll around in the grass!
It feels good to see the world from a different perspective. And yet…it seems like I have been here before.
It feels good to be grounded again.
Many of us spent much of our childhood years outside and on the ground. Being grounded is to be sensible, connected, and down to earth–the qualities of young children and animals of all sorts. It is a calm steadiness that reaches far beyond our own bodies and lives–from the ancestors who came before us who have returned to the ground to our offspring and the ones who come after us. Being grounded is the basis for our daily life; it is a way of learning and showing up. It is the foundation on which we can build the rest of our lives. Being grounded is like a hug from Mother Earth–one that tells us we are loved, we are accepted, and we are a wonder to be-held.