I pause. On a morning when snow falls and roads are only passable with care, I take time out. I remove myself from the pressures of daily routines for a few precious hours and I reflect. Over these past few weeks I have have been running hard. Away from myself and a truth I did not want to face. Towards myself and the healing that always comes when a truth is finally faced. I look out onto my snow-covered garden and I pause.
The snow is to stop by lunchtime. I will pick up the reins of my normal routine then. But for now I cherish these hours of in-between. I stop. I breathe.
The facing of a fear that I do these past weeks has left me lighter. Calmer. The path ahead is more solitary than I had hoped but with awareness comes understanding, acceptance, healing. Clarity will follow. A new direction, a new path will emerge. But for this moment, this day, I am gentle with myself. I pause.
The sun is pale, the wind is cold as I look out over my garden on this late-January morning. I am warm inside the warm coat I wear. Thick gloves protect my hands. Two pairs of socks protect my feet. The hush that falls when snow falls surrounds me. The far off sounds of the far off road are muted, softened by the soft fall of snow that surrounds me.
I move slowly, matching my mood to the quiet calm of the garden I walk in. Gratitude fills me. For the family and friends I cherish. For the quiet, calm beauty of this garden that is mine to walk in. For the gift I am granted by this fall of winter snow. For the renewed sense of reconnection I sense will be mine when this snow fall stops, when this time of pause is over. I do not rush my walk this morning. These are moments to be fully present to. To allow to settle deep into all levels of my being, just as the snow has settled across the expanse of my garden this mid-winter morning.
Time is a gift that has been mine to take this morning. I return to my routine more certain of my sense of self, of the next steps of my journey. The connection that I have been missing these past weeks begins to return. On this soft winter morning when I take a pause, when I stop to breathe, my direction becomes clearer. My path opens out. I begin to hear the whispers that whisper of the next steps of my journey, the ones I am to follow. The ones that will bring me the deeper connection with my self that was the question I asked when I began this quest, when I sought the reason for my disconnection.
The sun becomes brighter, the wind becomes softer. I pause for one final moment before I return to my home, to my routine. I am changed. I am clearer. I know what to do next.