I watched a talk by a Diné (Navajo) elder as he talked about the energy of the seasons. He articulated some points of things I’ve been thinking about, and with today being quite a snowstorm, has got me thinking more.
He made the point that how can you really know how you feel about rain or snow if you’re not in it? Feeling it on your skin, hearing it, seeing it… So while I am content to sit inside today while this storm rages outside, I am going to head out to be with it.
From the climate-controlled warmth of the indoors, the storm looked bitter. Small snowflakes were being whipped around at varying angles and in varying directions by a temperamental wind. The thermometer read 11 degrees. The large trees surrounding the house swayed in sync with the howling of the air.
This afternoon I let Aahana out to pee. She took a couple steps out on the deck and turned right back around. Granted, she is at heart a Southern Belle (originally from Arkansas), but if the four-legged in my house rapidly turns back from the outside, that’s a bit of a sign to follow her lead.
Still, I recalled a teaching I received years ago when taking a shamanic class on the spirits of nature. The teacher challenged us at the end of class to “spend an hour outside everyday, no matter the weather.” He repeated “no matter the weather” for emphasis.
I geared up and headed out. While we often use the term “bitter” to describe the temperature or wind, the storm was just doing its thing. It was not angry at all. Tuning into it, it shared that it carried the message of “this is what needs to happen right now.” It is easy to think that Nature is punishing us - she has ample right to after what we have done to her, but this was not the case. (he mentality of “she’s punishing us” elevates our importance way higher than it actually is, and puts us at the center of things, a place we surely do not occupy… but I digress)
Settling into the matter-of-fact energy of the weather, it was fascinating to witness the sheer power of the wind, as it gusted squalls of snow past me. The small path I had shoveled right around the front door and yard (giving Aahana an easy bathroom path) was partially re-filled by the wind-blown snow, but that didn’t bother me.
Recharged, relieved, and reconnected, I head back inside.
There’s no way I can fully understand what Nature’s plan is, or truly how she works, but being out there with her in her intensity it was, actually, kinda fun.
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