Dec 8, 2009

day #1 - silent snow

 falling snow, billowing silence.

the deep autumn has finally let go of her last leaf today. she held out for as long as her brittle hands would allow as though she was gifting her admirers with an unusually long glimpse into the soul by which she exists. with one last gasping breath, autumn ushered in a new guest. like a seamless relay, the baton of seasons was passed from one to another and before we admirers knew what was taking place, brother winter had already wrapped us in his billowy embrace. 

sweet autumn, i am one of your many enthusiasts and i thank you for the ways you have modeled what it is to persevere. the steadfastness of your company is worthy to be acknowledged by all.

the task at hand for today was to become a learned student of nature. that is was this mini-series of blog posts is all about. what can i learn from nature? what is she asking of me? how does she collide with my soul? i did receive a rather large portion of enlightenment from the unexpectedness of mother nature, but i can't help but wonder if this simple revelation illumined itself in lieu of the recent self-awakening regarding the simple and painful tendencies threaded throughout by being. i am learning the characteristics of silence. silence presents itself as the penetrating nourishment our dry bones cry out for; it exists as our greatest remedy. and all at once a divergence springs forth; silence poses as the stitches that bind the liberation of our brokenness. we become enslaved to the fear entangled throughout the riskiness of confessing and fail to step forward in vulnerable authenticity.

during my crawl home this evening i couldn't help but take notice of the abysmal influence the seemingly innocent snowflakes carried underneath their glittery robes. many times the winter season is equated to silence. layers of blankety whiteness stills the noise of this world in which we live and we are unknowingly disarmed. i watched with full attention the beauty of the falling snow and wondered to myself - how can something as tender as these snowflakes accumulate into a mess of dormancy? the snow began to fall early this morning like molecules of glitter and remained in that finite state throughout the day. and this is how our silence begins. it seems harmless at first and we acutally believe that we can stand unaffected by its power and never would we tantalize the possiblity that it can impress upon the lives of those around us. but it does. just as the millions of icy fragments fall quietly from the sky above, they inevitably grow into walls of inprisonment. 

just as snow must be shoveled so that we can walk through and reach our destination so too must silence cease to bind our trembling lips in such a way that our souls are freed to bask in the light of voice. 

1 comment:

Grace said...

Hi!!!!!! you have beautiful pictures on your blog. I admire people who can look good in pictures. (And take good ones too!!!

have fun!!!!!!!