Standing last night on a hillside above Boulder: as the stars came out in the clear autumn sky, smelling the pine trees and noticing the snow from last week’s fall, I can remember summer, but am feeling also the approach of winter. As the feeling of winter drifts through my awareness, a part of me tenses, wanting to turn away, to focus on the warmth and light that are so close in time and not quite flown for the year. I know that I can access the feelings of summer even in the heart of winter and call forth the awareness of light and warmth when the world is neither, but tonight I choose first to take a second look at winter. What is it that I am resisting and why?
Shying away from the weather for the next quarter turn of the year seems limiting. Even if I admit that I prefer other seasons, there is life and beauty in every season. What is this flinching pointing to? Is it the season itself or the emotional associations that have piled up like drifting snow over the years? Can I stand still and make a space inside me for these feelings, memories or associations that cause me to flinch? Knowing and feeling the light and warmth are there too, I hold my summer experience like a torch that melts the snow and reveals what lies underneath. Dancing with the fears and griefs, judgments or memories, I relax and release my need to resist, to flinch so fast that I am not even conscious of the process.
Standing on the hillside underneath the stars, breathing, grounding, I step through the resistances and find I am surrounded by old friends. Becoming present with myself, including them, I step into a place of true choice, to embrace, or let go. I can call up light in the dark, the feeling of a summer breeze when its cold. I can give myself permission to yield to the bodies impulses to hibernate and choose to schedule a bit more sleep, or a slower pace. I can feel the weight of past winter’s studying and let some of that burden go, while appreciating whatever I have retained from those efforts. The place where I feel alone I can wrap in the deep connection to myself, and while the world in the north is going to sleep I can reach out around the globe and connect to the life of summer on the other side.
Allowing myself to turn into my resistance I can, piece by piece, recognize, balance and release the old companions that have lived behind it. Join me in reclaiming this season for yourself, as next to every piece that you may turn away from there are others that fill you with life and joy. The season is comprised of so many facets and when we shy from a few we cease to be present with the rest. Perhaps you already love the winter times, but there are other places in your life that are sealed off by resistance. Noticing the feeling of turning away, you can choose to remain present and refocus your life in any season or facet. Let resistance guide your attention to the places that limit your life force and joy; breath in your life force, ground, connect to your high self, notice your spiritual resources are close at hand, and come into loving relationship with the world around you.
