Some winter days we yearn for a get away or extended visit to a warm climate. Last Monday was one of those days. It rained all day, ruining the snow for walking and animal tracking, and was just miserable. All of December felt unusually cold, but I think I've gone soft. A cold, not warm, December should be the norm here.
A dusting of snow on New Year's Eve covered up the ice, making it slightly more treacherous to walk, but it also restored winter beauty to the woods. I spread a little extra bird seed to help the birds get through the icy, cold spells and build up a little fat against the blustery winds. We don our extra clothing and venture out with Henna regardless of the temperature, choosing trails or the road based on conditions of the day. A fire in our wood stove is bright and cheery and keeps us extra warm and cozy.
Today I listened to Ezra Klein's (NYT) podcast with Stephen Batchelor, author of books on Buddhism and meditation. During part of the interview, Bachelor explains the four tasks in Buddhist teaching:
1. Embrace life
2. Let go of reactivity
3. Dwell in the non-reactive space
4. Cultivate a way of life, a path
There are many lessons threaded throughout this conversation that I will continue to explore. I especially appreciate that "doubt" is an important tenet and is to be embraced as it leads to curiosity and awakening. He quotes a Buddhist aphorism: “Great doubt, great awakening. Little doubt, little awakening. No doubt, no awakening.” I always have doubts.
My immediate response (although maybe I am supposed to pause first) to this podcast is to embrace winter. Batchelor notes that Task 3--dwelling in the non-reactive space is nirvana. He goes on to say that,
"people I know who have no interest in meditating have had experiences where all of their muddled and worried thoughts, for some reason, just die down. People might find this in doing sports, for example — running every day. They might find it by going for hikes in the countryside or just working in their gardens. There are all manner of activities we do that have nothing to do with meditation in a formal sense but are moments whereby, suddenly, we find we are at peace with ourselves. That, to me, is the nonreactive space."
I appreciate this take, as I find joy, inspiration, and spiritual guidance in nature. Rather than yearning for heat and humidity in January in New Hampshire, I am embracing each aspect of each winter day. The full moon rising. Ten turkeys scratching the snow for tossed seeds. An Accipter snatching a starling from our yard, slamming it a few times on the ground while a large crow arrives to intimidate the hawk, the starling reviving and hissing at its foe. The Accipiter releasing the starling that flies off as the crow gives chase. Life carries on.

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