The Art of Snow

I opened my eyes yesterday morning and found myself sunken in a rich milky light. As I was shaking away the traces of my dream, which I didn’t remember anyway, I tried to resist an ultimate desire to cover my head with a warm heavy blanket and fall asleep again. The window in front of me was beaming a pure white light into my eyes, tempting me to peek into the world outside. It’s the only window in our bedroom which isn’t covered with curtains. We like to watch the clouds and lonely planes drift thru the sky. This rectangular passage works as our personal calming eye-spa. 

It was snowing again, heavy, leaving no hope for the sun. My lovely New York, snow storm suits you so perfectly! It turned your dirty streets into the white milky highways, hiding all the garbage and other imperfections. It makes you look fluffy, even gentle. Another silky side of the concrete jungle. Definitely one of my favorite sides. 

Even though my train was delayed and stuck for a good amount of time, preventing me from making it to yoga studio on time, I felt incredibly happy. I had a moment of irritation growing inside, but quickly stopped myself from falling into the blues. I’m working on interesting commissions at the moment and my free time is limited. I made a commitment to keep practicing yoga every single day even if I can’t make it into the studio, because this practice is my fuel and source of energy. Every time I roll out my olive green yoga mat, I step into the safe area where is no right or wrong, where is no judging (or at least I’m working on not judging my rusty joints for disobedience). My practice gives me the opportunity to learn about who I am and quiet the noisy bees inside my head. Squeezing together and pulling apart at the same time does wonders!

Yoga is a place I call ‘my very own universe’. 

There is a quote by Rumi which describes exactly what I feel: 

“Out beyond wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’ Doesn’t make any sense.”

So where were we? Oh.. The stuck train! And snowstorm, and icy sleek streets with mini ponds in unexpected places, and hundreds of pictures in my social networks feed from people who hate this weather and wishing to see green grass, flowers and spring. Stop. Just stop and look around this white madness. It’s stunning, breathtaking and feels like we are in the movies. Try to enjoy every moment, every fragile silky snowflake melting on your cheeks. 

There is no perfect weather, no perfect people, no perfect things and no perfect hearts. But… Our attitude is that magic wand which turns imperfections into joy.