Mid-Winter Lessons

Mid-Winter Lessons

This week’s blog is written by Lynn Koerbel, MBSR teacher and trainer.

Here in New England, it’s mid-winter. Some days are brutally cold. Ice storms blow through. Other days the air hangs heavy, chilly, and damp, the perfect conditions for headaches. Then, with no warning, the wind changes and warmth floods the atmosphere: not “warm” warmth, but a relative temperateness that prompts me to peel my mittens off while walking the dog and lulls me into thinking this is the direction we’re going weather-wise, only to feel sheepish the next day when snow falls again, and I remember it’s still February.

image

I’ve lived in this climate for 26 years, but the strength of wanting to rest on a solid sense of direction and movement towards what I like (light and warmth) and away from what I don’t like (cold and dark) is so strong, I regularly forget.

It’s an apt metaphor, this mid-winter weather, for the moments of forgetting that happen in the heart: when I am faced with the inner chill of loneliness, or the ice storm of regret. When I touch the mid-winter season happening inside, what then?

There is a place in me that cannot resist truth. Even when it’s hard as ice. I’ve found mid-winter to be a perfect time to study this—for while there is stillness and darkness, there is also a slow, almost imperceptible movement. Even ice thaws… eventually. And the span of mid-winter—which cannot be denied in my locale—offers itself to be known, and through it, to know something deeper in the mid-winter season of the inner landscape.

Mid-winter teaches waiting, teaches patience, teaches—if I’m open—the reminder to settle again into the actuality of both the inner and the outer weather and all its lessons. When the outer cold comes—I resist the urge to grouse and take solace in the warmth of my hearth. When ice makes the dog walk treacherous, I move slow as a turtle out there.

I get my bearings in the heart of the inner wilderness by stopping in my tracks, letting my weight settle to my feet, the better to know something about here. In response to the reflexive recoil in my chest and upraise of my shoulders, I open to the fact of the ache, the way the light and temperature are, without fending.

So this is how it’s done: This is how the cold feels… this is how I re-right myself… nothing fancy. No hack needed. Just a reminder to look up, look around, take the hints of sky and horizon, find the compass of what’s true and gauge my next steps, my next breath, on the pulse of mid-winter’s invitation to wait awake. Ice thaws… spring comes—but in their own time. When I release the need to push or know—something shows up that is beyond my wildest dreams: actual life.

What’s your mid-winter truth?

10 Likes

Mid winter truths… walking through an exhibition of Corot’s landscapes… wondering about seasons and climat changes… b r e a t h i n g … over and over dwelling in a mountain meditation… having fun with my 3 to 5 years old pupils enjoying playing in the snow … feeling surprised when the sun sparkles for more than some hours… watching the moon

2 Likes

Dear, Hella, What a lovely snapshot: the art, the practice, the snow! and your children… the moon and sun. I love the fullness of what you share. And in the telling–I feel the reverberation and how you also paused to collect and share these moments. Thank you.

Lynn

1 Like

Thank you Lynn for sharing this mid-winter experience and your beautiful insights. Your blog got me reflecting on my so experience here in Jupiter. As you can imagine mid-winter is very different. With the temps in the 70-80s, I notice how I want it to be colder, cooler, grumbling that we never get enough winter in South Florida (as we say we have 2 seasons down here-snowbird season and hurricane season). Last month we had 5-6 days of temps in the 50-60s and I recall my desire for it to last many weeks. This wanting more, grasping, clinging didn’t let me enjoy the few days of cold that we did have!
After reading you post, I took a walk by the beach, noted my inner commentary on how hot it was, wondering if there will be any more cold fronts reaching us, and remembered to let that go. As I came to the shade of the seagrapes, I felt a cool breeze. I paused and noticed the sensations and feelings without elaboration - such an enjoyable moment - right in the middle of the warm afternoon, the coolness so obvious! So this is how winter now is for me, learning to notice the pleasant moments with non-attached appreciation! Thank you again, Gus

3 Likes

Midwinter truth: “Perfect weather” days are here again, cool nights and comfortably warm days with endless blue skies, soft breezes and delicious soft air. Yet the dark comes so early still, reminding me that this “in-between” season is a time of transition.

The “premature” darkness invites me back to that place of truth. Where the inner winter feels never- ending and the earth feels not moist and fertile, but icy, hard and perilous. And the “imperceptible movement” feels… well, imperceptible!

Suddenly I am reminded of the words of Huikai, from “Heart of the Matter” class:
…"if your mind is not clouded by unnecessary things,
This is the best season of your life."
And I smile and appreciate the beauty of the large, rising moon.

3 Likes

I have to say I do appreciate you both, Gus and Mary Beth, for reporting from Florida on your experience of mid-winter! It says so much about how the “perfect” weather comes and goes… no matter where we live. As I teach a graduate class on wholeness, I’m awed by how supportive it can be to name and acknowledge in community all the ways we can be–even subtly–disappointed by how we wish things to be, and how this, too, is an invitation to come closer, to not miss even this: The earlier darkness, the momentary cool breeze… here and gone. But lived into through awareness.

Thank you ,both.

Lynn

2 Likes