Learning from snow and ice.
In this lifetime, if you haven’t guessed it already, I am meant to learn patience. Thankfully, I have the wisest teacher who is willing to work with me—nature.
Nature is patient. The winter season is patient. Snow and ice and trees are patient.
Living in northern Vermont, I have been encircled by snow. On occasion, winter has me wondering—will it ever end? But, actually, I am relatively content in this season of the-snowy-soft-blanket-that-covers-the-land. Spring is around the corner for some, yet I find myself in the midst of unexpected storms—like the snow squall I drove through last week after dropping my youngest daughter off at school. When we left the house, the air was clear. Ten minutes later, I could barely see ten feet ahead. Such is life in the north country.
Over the past couple of months, I have realized there is a teaching in the snow and the ice. Possibly, there are many, but there was one in particular that I was meant to learn. If nature can’t get through to me, strangely my car becomes my teacher (this has happened before).
Weeks ago, as I drove home from the grocery store in zero-degree weather, my car generated a high-pitched metal-on-metal sound. I thought music was playing in the background, but when I looked over, the radio was off. The noise got louder and I nervously worried something was terribly wrong with my vehicle. I knew I needed to bring my car to the shop and could not imagine any scenario where this horrendous sound was not going to be incredibly expensive to fix. And I knew whatever the issue, a lesson was waiting for me.
So, I curiously brought my car to the auto repair shop, and they called me later in the day to tell me it was done. There was nothing they could find except a lot of ice that built up under the hood. So they melted it. I paid $70 for the dudes to melt some ice, which cleared the squealing sound completely. This wasn’t cheap, yet at the same time, I did not need a costly new engine or anything that grand, so in a way, it was. And the miracle awaited that the fix was not no complex at all. Inner warmth was what my car needed. And I was grateful.
I thought about ice. What was the lesson here? Ice was trying to tell me something—but what? Icicles lined the stream I visited every day, where I sat beside my tree friend and mentor. Parts of the stream had even turned to ice; the section beneath this very tree was now frozen solid, so I could easily stand close to her. Ice had been speaking to me, but what was it saying?
Nature was acting as a mirror, saying to me, “Look inside; there is ice within you, too.” Ice is water, and water stores memories. There were some memories stored in the water of my being that froze like ice and snow around my heartspace. Fear lived in these memories. Fear of the winter season of life. Fear of life without flow. Fear of ice itself. Once I understood this**, I worked to melt these stories. I permeated the warmth of my own heart through the veins of ice within me. My own light, my own inner warmth, freed me. I felt lighter, ready to face the stillness of the remaining winter season with patience and presence, knowing that spring would come again. The flow of life would find me again.
The Snow Full Moon in Leo is helping me today, bringing courage to shine the LoveLight within me wherever I go, through whatever I do, whatever I write, and whatever I share. I hope this energy is helping you, too, wherever you are, wherever you go, whatever you do.
Vulnerably and patiently yours,
-CCR
