A friend asked me what I found so intriguing about snow. Why was I constantly talking about it, focused on it, and in fact, praying for its presence at four o’ clock in the morning?
I got to thinking and wondering myself—what was the lure? I approached the inquiry from “thinking-mind” which didn’t get me far. My spirit intuitively knew the answer, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It wasn’t until I was tromping around in its white, thick lushness that the images came pouring through. I hoped I would remember the messages after my hike, well enough to scribe and share them with you.
- The contrast of the deer and turkey vultures against the white floor backdrop. Their footprints…
- The quiet stillness.
- The obvious one for me is the Vast Beauty: watching an entire mountain go from green to white.
- The way snow lingers on tree branches and sits on the tiniest of pine needles. At closer glance, it melds itself in a huddling sort of way; cocooning.
- I discovered that low-hanging heavy branches laden with snow bounce back to their original height when the snow falls off. It reminds me of the slinky toy that walked down the living room stairs alone.
Racial oppression and classism are just no good. I’m thinking of a so-called “spiritual” person (you know… reading those books, eating organic, and practicing “yoga,”) living in an upper class, white neighborhood who notices a person of color rummaging through trash cans. Trash cans. Stuff we throw away because we do NOT want it. Have mercy, my old friend. Close your glaring eyes; open your heart.
Okay so growing up in Southern California, I never had to shovel snow. I didn’t brace the cold as a lifestyle. I was never stuck inside, trying to move a car, or scraping ice off windshields. I realize that makes me open to the experience now.
It’s similar to the fact that a negative connotation of God was never delivered to me as a child. In the Jewish synagogue, all was good. Apples and honey, singing and playing, and reminders of an oppressed tribe needing to stay together. Mostly I was annoyed with the stand-up, sit-down, stand-up, sit-down routine during holy day services.
So when I hear the word God in a 12-step meeting, a Marianne Williamson speech, or from Jesus-devoted friends, I don’t flinch; it doesn’t send me running in the opposite direction. I smile, knowing my connection, attention, affiliation, association, and identification is with Goddess.
Let’s talk about flour and sugar, typically thought of as white. Generally the whiter it is, the more processed (polished) it is. It’s quite lethal for those of us practicing blood-sugar balancing. Yes, it is a practice—lifelong. Why are these goodies so harmful?
The short but impactful answer includes high glycemic, addictive, inflammatory, a road map to metabolic syndrome, pre-diabetes, and Diabetes Type II, and mood-altering. Did I mention inflammation and toxicity are known root causes of disease?
- The sound of the crunch under my feet; I like that. Have you listened closely?
- The motion and movement of cold, white flakes falling from the sky. Hello!
- Sweet memories of childhood vacations; sliding down snow fields in Lake Arrowhead and Big Bear Lake, CA with my parents and brother, Marc (who by the way had a baby boy today; welcome to the world, Dax Steinberger! I love you already).
What in the world does snow have to do with health—attaining it, sustaining it, or reversing Diabetes Type II? Oh um… everything if you are me. Everything if you believe a touched-spirit has anything to do with healing. Everything if you know that true healing only exists holistically—in body, mind, and spirit. Not to forget, I’m moving my body in it…
It’s all perspective, but girl… when you discover what makes your heart sing—you better be jumping up at 4:00am and praying for it, thanking it, and blessing it.
So yes, the best white thing I know is snow.
I do, however, like jicama and daikon radish. 🙂
What moves your spirit? Share with us in the comments below.