Here’s the thing about winter, this season of darkness, we can’t see very much.
We don’t know what’s going on beneath the surface, in the earth and often in our lives. And it’s futile to keep digging everything up just to check.
Instead, we have to let it be. And trust that spring will come because it always does.
As encouragement, here are some beautiful words from John O’Donohue:
Within the grip of winter, it is almost impossible to imagine the spring. The grey, perished landscape is shorn of colour. Only bleakness meets the eye; everything seems severe and edged. Winter is the oldest season; it has some quality of the absolute. Yet beneath the surface of winter, the miracle of spring is already in preparation; the cold is relenting; seeds are waking up. Colours are beginning to imagine how they will return …
The beauty of nature insists on taking its time. Everything is prepared. Nothing is rushed. The rhythm of emergence is a gradual, slow beat; always inching its way forward, change remains faithful to itself until the new unfolds in the full confidence of true arrival.
From the introduction to Thresholds from Benedictus: A Book of Blessings, 2007, Bantam Press
Rest well, even today