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Snow Falling...

I sat in a comfortable living room as the snow fell silently all around.  The fire burning in its place, creating a warm glow that acted to counterbalance all the tiny frozen flakes coming down outside.


Snow has always been magical to me.  I love the hush it brings to life and living.  I feel like snow was given to us to slow us down and give us time to reflect.  And that is exactly what I did this past weekend as the snow came fluttering down.


I went outside and looked up at the frenzied path of the falling flakes.  No where else in this life do I see so much activity without the usual attendant noise.  It is quite miraculous really.  Where else in life do we get to have that level of effort without any added noise?  I can’t think of one...


The snow storm reminded me of writing.  This is what writing is like for me, although my partner who sleeps next to me will tell you while the thoughts leaving my head are silent, my tapping them onto my screen, not so much as he slumbers next to me.  But writing is like a snow storm, this silent fury of individual thoughts falling down upon me.  And they for sure come from some higher authority.  Sometimes when I am writing in the early morning, I am still so tired that I fall asleep while writing.  It is often like this fugue state - I am here but my reality is compromised and I feel like I have kind of left the building, but here I am writing away.


The words falling on my screen like tiny snowflakes.  A blizzard of thought, feeling, emotion and intelligence...coming from a place I do not know, I cannot touch but am always sure exists.


I am in a weird place in my life.  I am back in a relationship I left last year.  And it has been lovely.  Truly.  But I live with this ever present wonder, awe and fear that we will not be able to make it work this time and I will get hurt, and hurt him again.  And I do not want the hurt, not for him, not for me, not for my children or his.  But there are no guarantees as I wrote about a few days ago.  No matter what relationship you are entering, there will always and forever be risk.


And while most people may not agree with my decision, I love this man and while there are issues and problems and fear, there is also this amazing love.  This feeling of being seen and seeing another person, and that underscores a loving relationship, imperfect as it is.


And I realize too that love is kind of like a snow shower.  Tiny bits of emotion floating down from some place unseen and unknowable.  Descending upon you, touching you and providing quite the show.  However, love unlike snow storms, provides no respite or shelter from its storms.  Loving is inherently risky.  Giving yourself, your body, your mind, your heart, your home to another is one of the greatest acts of courage I think I have ever endeavored to do.


I am not perfect.  He is not perfect.  But we are both showing up today in this relationship and endeavoring to own this love that exists between us.  To not run when it gets hard.  To love when circumstances would absolutely lead you away from this other person who has fallen into your life, one flake at a time.  This love builds up like snow on frozen ground, silencing all the thought and fear, and blanketing you in a beautiful vista that beckons you to slow down, to notice things you wouldn’t usually...things like how it feels when you are held by someone who loves you.  I mean really held. Your life and heart transfixed in time and place by the embrace of someone who longs to hold you close.


Snow falling always gives me pause for perspective.  A chance to be immediately present for the beauty that trickles down, silently falling and blessing all it touches.  Love is kind of like that too.


I have been happy in love and also miserable.  And like with winter snow, it envelopes me and brings a silent chill to love’s burning flame...causing me to have to take notice to all the frenzied activity passing by my vista silently falling, accumulating and perhaps, impeding my exit.


Snow falling is like writing and loving.  Both tasks relatively silent endeavors...because writing and loving come in the space between...a flurry of activity produced in silent repose.  And for me, at least this 2.0 version of this love, feels so very different from before.


I have no idea how life or this love or a snow storm will turn out...not a fucking clue.  But I know that my job in today is to view it, and value it for what it is today, a beautiful vista that feels like a blessing raining down from above...silently encapsulating your life.




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