The last day of the year, and I managed to get up early, to be in quiet stillness, alone, just me and my divine mother. Listening.
I have my green tea and dark chocolate, and I gaze into the darkness of winter.
I’ve been away to a beautiful place in Greece, staying with friends, seeing the sun and blue sky, the vastness of the ocean and beauty of trees full of lemons and oranges. It’s amazing that such a place exists, where you can reach up and pick ripe fruit in the depth of winter.
Coming back we were met with snow, glittering on frozen trees, and as my husband drove I kept gazing up at the sky, at the moon and stars, amazed by the many different kinds of beauty of different places.
The sky is brightening now, the world a deep blue. Coming back from sun and mild weather, I can appreciate the fairy like quality of snow, the pureness of a white ground and trees, everything quiet, the icy rain sounding like crystals falling as I walk in the forest, the evening darkening, the clouds rolling across the sky, across a bright yellow moon.
I remember one winter when still living in California, I visited Norway, this quiet place where my family lives, when there are no sounds except those of nature, and the snow was unusual deep and heavy, the trees all white and bending from the weight of it. The sky was dark and brilliant, full of stars, and as we walked I couldn’t understand why the others didn’t look up, didn’t marvel at that incredible beauty above us. Perhaps they had grown used to it, but coming from the city I couldn’t get enough of it. I breathed it all in, the air cold and crips, fresh, the stillness touching my skin and every day I went for long walks, feeling something starting to heal within me, slowly, slowly, through the touch of nature.
I eventually returned to California, which was always a shock to the system. Life was faster paced there, though I loved it as well; the sun, the warmth, the colors, the fragrant jasmine dripping over fences. It was the city that wore on me, and I prayed to be taken back to nature. I had never fully appreciated it growing up, not having known any other way of life than being surrounded by mountains, forest, the ocean within view. As a young girl I would spend hours outside after dark, gathering rocks for my stone collection, gazing up at the stars, meeting a hedgehog, and knowing that the warmth of home was only steps away.
Now I once again live in the countryside of Norway, and I’m not sure I can ever return to living in the city. I like to visit, to go to a cafe, get some shopping done, do some people watching, and then return to my trees, and mountains, and the quiet whispers of the wind.
New Years Eve
New Years Eve was always special to me, not quite as loved as Christmas, but still very much enjoyed with good food and anticipation for what would happen around midnight. When my sister and I were little we would get too tired to stay up past 9, and had to go to bed, knowing our parents would wake us up in time for the fireworks.
We stood outside on the verandah, in the cold and snow, watching the sky come alive with colors and noise, and we would call out saying good bye old year, good bye! And I thought I could see it smile and disappear beyond the mountains.
Wishing you the best for the new year
On my table there are white tulips. White for fresh beginnings, for purity, for the new year.
I wish you the very best for the coming year. I wish you hope, light, joy and a knowing that you’re loved, that you’re never alone in facing whatever comes your way.
What lessons have you learned this year? How was your holiday season? I would love to know. Blessed be.