Friday, February 27, 2015
Or, we can hide from it.
I find the snow falling to be hypnotic. I'm not really sure why or how it happens, but there is a sense of the divine in how the trees are covered, how the fields are coated, or how the moisture fills the air. For me, there is a presence of the divine that is unmistakable, encompassing the totality of my being. I know that sounds a little New Age-y, but there really is nothing like it.
I can recall when I was an avid hunter that I would sit in the blind, or the tree stand watching and waiting. I have to confess that there were a couple times when deer came by and I let them go just so I could watch them playing or trotting around in the snow. Hogs, on the other hand never made it - they are just hideous critters and ham is so delicious... But anyway, the tree stand became a little sanctuary out in the middle of nowhere. I'm not much of a praying guy, but I remember having plenty of conversations with the Creator when sitting in one of those stands. It just seemed pure, undefiled.
We run across stuff we despise on a regular basis, and more often than not, that thing that makes us want to bite someone's face was put there to show us that yes, it makes us want to bite faces - it forces us to examine ourselves and dig deep for the root cause of such anger and ire. Well, it does if we want it to. Sometimes, if feels good to wallow in the anger and rage - even though it's not the right answer.
For me, the solitude can be a scary damned place to be. I don't really like much of who I am and what I've become, but I own it all. My failures, my shortcomings, my sins if you will, are all on me and no one else. That's what the snow can bring to us - that necessary solitude that requires everything and nothing of us. Introspection sucks, but it's days like this when the pain is worth it.
Of course, I could be wrong, but I seriously doubt it.