A love letter to winter.
I see you coming. The branches nearly bare.
I feel you coming. The chill in the air.
Darkness falls earlier but the morning light is glorious.
I promise to notice your beauty. To steel myself against coldness in body and spirit. To generate warmth for others and embrace the solitude.
To know this season as one of hope. To savor the days rather than wish them away. To take pictures of falling snow.
Every so often I take a picture with hints of something really special. And then I load the picture from camera to computer and no matter how hard I try, I cannot bring my vision forward. In this case, I decided it just wasn’t meant to be and sent the file directly to the trash can. Then today I was reading a post on Don’t Take Pictures—Weekend Reading: Robbie Lawrence. The article featured a book of images and poetry, A Voice Above the Linn. A few of the photographs really pulled me in and I went searching for more images from the book, settling into the work and studing the subtle treatment of the photographs. It’s always the tones that I fall in love with. In looking at the work of Robbie Lawrence, I came across a photograph similar to my image of leaves on the water (image 17/25) in the Fredericksburg Canal. Robbie’s photograph inspired me to take another pass at my own picture. I restored the folder from the recycle bin and tried again.
There is so much in this life I have been wrong about. Tapes that have played in my head that have hurt me and the way I think about others. Biases and beliefs. All turned upside down now. I love it. The chance to start over, to try again. To make it better.
My meditation this morning, from Smiling Mind, was on self-compassion. Part of the session involved saying kind things to myself in my head. Without delving deep into my formative years, let’s just say that somewhere along the line I missed the reassurance that I needed to believe in myself. At first, I thought it would be difficult to say those things to myself. The question that surfaced was something along the lines of Do I really need reassurance now at age 60? And then, Do I really deserve such kindness? Am I being greedy to ask for more? The floodgates opened and I said in my mind all those things I really wish someone would say out loud to me. You are smart and creative, funny and kind, and you live wholeheartedly. You are one-of-a-kind and that’s what we love about you. You are resourceful and determined. Being with you makes me happy. You get the idea. Mostly I heard my own voice and the things I’ve said to my sons. I am a loving and kind mother.
I took this photo yesterday morning. It was chilly and one of those windy fall days where leaves dance and swirl and settle and then start all over again. I love this picture because it speaks to the tenacity of the human spirit. Even when we are thwarted at every turn, we often find a way to shine.