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Sunday, January 29, 2012

Content With The Ordinary Life

Snow is funny stuff! Last week I experienced the glorious elation that it brings. I climbed up onto the window sill and watched the heavenly crystals softly landing upon the pane in exquisite form; like starlight. Each one seemed to twinkle a special tune from it's own heart and vibrate like music in my imagination. Maudie and I shared the delightful melody as we looked from one to another in profound awe as they wafted down. The roof tops, the tree boughs, the driveway and garden and  fence posts all seemed to join together under the blanket of thick white snow.

Snow did not discriminate between the tall or the short; it covered all of the landscape below our window, until it was easy to "not-know" the differences between the rockery, the shrubs, the lawn or the pond.  Our view seemed to radiantly change and blend together the entire landscape under the dimpled clouds.  The vision made it seem like a fantasy land. The signs and guide posts were covered as were the street posts, addresses and numbers on the license plates and gate. Maudie and I seemed to feel mesmerized as we gazed out together, losing track of time each afternoon. We shared that sense of peace that seemingly encompassed our world. It all reminded me of how the ancient Masters did not try to educate the people; but kindly taught them to "not-know".

We looked forward more than ever to tea time last week while it snowed. Maudie would start her ablutions earlier than usual on each of the five snow filled days. I would hear her arise and rush to her bedroom window, from my soft nest of wool blankets under Maudie's bed. It interested me how she would arrange our day so that we could spend more time at home together, and extend our hours at tea time so as to have more enjoyment quietly gazing out at our newly painted scene. It was not the usual hectic rrush to gather Maudie's tools and go out to forage all day long,. We needn't anything to gather or to forage. It was as if everything was perfect just the way it was; yet there was an adventure happening and so much wonder all about. When one thinks that they know all the answers, they tend to be difficult to guide.  When one knows, they do not know, one can find their own way.

Each of those five snowy days we awoke to new wonder. Each morning seemed like it filled us with refreshing insight and soft new territory and a new perspective on life. Maudie would open the drapes as wide as they would open and we would  gaze upon the wonderland and spend the days entranced in revelation. We busied ourselves in the mornings so that we could meditate in the afternoons.We made many extra trips in the crisp deep snow to fill the bird feeders.  We watched as the iridescent hummingbirds came zipping across from their pine tree to sip the warm syrup from above the electric heating blanket Maudie connected beneath  their dish.

I would spend almost an hour coaxing Maudie to go out with me into the lane and garden. She always coalesces to my whims. All I had to do was walk in circles around the front door for a time, making sure that Maudie was in  plain sight. She is mindful of my moods.. I did not mind as much as usual when Maudie dressed me in doll clothes and booties before we went outside. It felt pretentious and stifling to wear clothes but I looked forward so; to going outside that I instantly forgave Maudie and leaped into her footprints as we surveyed the garden, and filled each feeder. Maudie kept calling me and telling me just where to step. Sometimes, she likes to think that she governs my every move. If one wants to learn how to govern, one must avoid being clever or rich. The simplest pattern is the clearest.

We would come inside in time for tea. As Maudie put on the kettle, I would watch the puddles form on the landing around our boots, catching the drips as they melted down the sides.  I love warm milk and Maudie loves her tea, we always  spend tea time together. Maudie serves as "Mother" even when we have guests for tea, but last week, with the snow, we spent the entire five days alone in the company of "non- desire" unlearning all the things we thought we ever knew.






We were simply reminded of who we have ALWAYS been. We feel most content with our ordinary life.

The snow is funny stuff. It showed us the way back to our true nature.