As the day progresses, the flurry of life’s events and challenges often has me feeling like I am driving in a blizzard: crawling forward, barely able to see except for the lights in front of me. It seems like they are light-years away, and really they are just feet away. As I drive, the swirling snow makes it hard to identify direction, even up from down.
Mornings are different. In meditation, prayer, and presence practices, I find calm in the storm. It’s as if I threw on a jacket and stepped into the storm by choice, just to be among the snowflakes. I stand beneath a cluster of trees, my coat wrapped tight, and watch the flurries dance among the branches. From that place, the beauty of the storm – the wind and snow and cold – it all comes vibrantly to life. Each element brings its own curious majesty.
It’s the same storm. The difference is if we feel like we have to be in it and we just do what we normally do, or if we recognize our choice in how we are in it. I have learned that at the very least, the mornings allow me to create space and time to just be in the storm of life, in all its glory.
