Last night, it started snowing heavily. "Oh, my goodness!" I exclaimed late last night when I glanced out the window. When you live in a climate where the weather changes quickly causing your routine to change suddenly and dramatically, you comment on the weather. You even talk to yourself about the weather, saying corny things like, "Look how beautiful it is!"
Seeing through snow is zen. You don't need to go to any temple nor pay money for a yoga retreat nor listen to a motivational speaker telling you what you need; you just go outside and look around. The metaphor of snow blanketing the earth is not an accident of tongue -- snow does comfort you like a blanket. Snow brings a stillness to the air and to your being. Of course, I'm speaking like a Northerner. If you are from somewhere else, you might hate snow. But to me, snow is yoga. Union.
This morning, like last year about this time, I knew that snow was imminent. But as this November has been so mild, I kept pressing my luck. So, I didn't actually prepare for it, which meant that I had to go rummage in my basement for my boots. Well, it's not exactly true that I didn't prepare for it because last week I did make a scarf out of one of my favorite old wool sweaters. My sister had bought me the sweater 25 plus years ago when she went to Italy with Ritva, and I have never been able to throw out that purple and brown sweater even though it went hopelessly out of style.
I trudged through the heavy, wet snow to pick Tassu up to take her for a walk. By the time I returned, I was sweaty and winded from the extra effort of dragging my boots through clumpy snow. So, I made some comfort food -- cranberry carrot muffins with spelt flour and ground flax seeds -- even though I read yesterday that one way to avoid extra calories in winter is to be aware of "emotional eating," that is, comfort foods.
I wonder though: are the people who write those articles about avoiding "extra calories" Northerners?