Stormy inside, stormy outside
This year Katie and I have a packed calendar. This morning we both woke up to find out not only our day was packed, but our heads as well.
We started talking about what we could have done differently for yesterday’s workshop, what prep we needed to do for tomorrow’s workshop, and all of a sudden we were in the middle of a thought storm, missing having more spaciousness in our days and feeling low. We were taking life and our thoughts too seriously.
Suddenly, Katie, with a child like face, said “should we go sledging?!” to which I said YES, it sounds fun! (even though I have never been sledging and a part of me thought how the hell are we going to get everything done if we go now?).
We got to the slope and for a split second I thought to myself “is this a good idea? you are still recovering from your broken foot”. Walked a little bit more and again, another flitting thought “do we have time for this?”. And then, as I was forming a snow ball to throw at K, I saw how our thoughts are like snow flakes, they just come and go, nothing to do about them. The moment we give our attention to one of them, other snow flakes pile on top of it until forming a “solid” snow ball, so solid it looks real, it looks like a real problem we need to fix not realising that actually it is not a real ball and it is going to dissolve eventually.
And just like that, the thought storm in my head started to lift, a packed diary didn’t look like such a problem and I could see more clearly what things needed to wait or go. I was able to enjoy being out, in a snow storm and feel like a kid again — nothing to worry about, just enjoying the freedom and lightness of being in the moment.
After going down a few slopes and having a good laugh, suddenly the clouds in the sky dispersed and, there it was, the blue sky, that never went anywhere, reminding me that no matter what thought storm is going on in my head, behind all of that there is a calm and peaceful sky, always there, always available, but for my thinking.
