i need more blanketed stillness, quiet, vastness and frozen beauty. (not sure what the groundhog will say)

i intend to fill my life with more art. 

     Each morning I dance in spirals until I am gazing into winter’s awesome eyes. The crystalline blue leads me through a tunnel into her soul and all the way out again into the cold, arctic world. I am in the process of discovering a new kind of bliss that lives under the snow, deep inside the icebergs and perhaps inside me.

    January made me star shaped once upon a time, reaching out for the universe in five different directions. Winter surrounded my bones with the softest of snow. I was delighted to be born, wrapped up in blankets until I could spread each limb out for balance. Held until I could stretch the muscle of my mind into the farthest reaches of my body.

    Now when I put weight in my hands and feet in downward dog I feel the stiffness of my sacrum. I have played hard, leaping, rolling, climbing, feeling free in my body. As a dancer, ironically I also spent many years holding back, restraining what I say and how I move. At times I was frozen with fear, scared of my own blue eyes, of what I see and what people would see in me.  

    Icicles make me long for more transparency. I see frosty designs grow on windows like the branches of arteries. Underneath my pale skin flows this cool, melancholy, blue blood, like the blue that dwells just below the surface of the snow. Reuniting with my old friend winter has revived my heart. I am so grateful to be able to move freely, sliding through the woods, without the judgment or interference of my mind. This world I ski in with my dog is overwhelmingly sparkly and we are both just too joyous to be cold.

Vermont’s below zero days require me to stay inside, hide under covers and cuddle. In case you are wondering, that’s what I have been doing. Hibernating... There is nothing like taking a break from routine, from the over whelm, from living really. Winter invites me inward, inside my apartment literally. And I am grateful to my little propane heater. I am grateful to reconnect with this season that many people find unbearable. When I do step outside my house in my many layers of fleece and down, I am struck by a blinding kind of beauty. I see icicles dripping from rooftops. I see sun streaking through heavy hemlock branches, illuminating the sparkly dance of the air molecules. I see fractals falling ever so gently, blanketing a barren but glittering world.

    Finally I can settle in for a long winters nap. I long for and I am satisfied by the kind of attention I can give to my self now that there is nothing pulling me away from me. I can love the things I really love when it is winter, like fire, naps, softness, warmth, blankets, seals, stories, writing and art. I have an excuse to hibernate in the cold weather. I have an excuse to say no. My mind nags me less with questions of should I stay involved? Should I go out? Should I see people tonight? The desire to bask in the warm, quiet presence of my home grows larger. I ask myself to listen more carefully than I do in other months. What does my heart in its cage of ribs really want? What does my heart that is so sheltered and in hiding, truly long for? What is it that I forget about in all the other seasons?