Winter stillness. The sound of a fresh snowfall. Cold, crisp, empty air. The echoing sound of snow crunching underfoot. Clear views of the landscape; dark and bare trees. Vapor rising from houses, diffusing into a grey sky. Sparkling ice.
When I observe my surroundings in this way, my contempt for winter softens. It is only a season, after all, but it can feel like so much more than that when you live in Wisconsin. Winter is dark and cold, so cold that it is not always safe to spend time outside. There are times when I feel confined, oppressed by the cold. But this is only my reaction to it, not the winter itself.
Breathing in the air as I walk around my neighborhood, the sting of the cold makes me feel alive. I enjoy moving through it, feeling my body heat up the further I go. Alexandra and I have each enjoyed some winter explorations this year, and I’ve included some of the extraordinary photographs Alexandra has taken over the past few weeks. I love how she has captured both the beauty and the fierceness of the season.
This week, we practice cultivating a sense of quiet alertness in constructive rest. Stillness and observation are the fertile soil from which our movement explorations can grow into true discoveries. When we return to stillness and observation after moving, we notice changes that have occurred over time. By being present in stillness, we can fully appreciate our wholeness.
We are thinking of everyone affected by winter storms across the country this week, and hope that you and your families are safe and warm.
Kateri & Alexandra
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