Turning-Within as Winter Approaches

"Ah, but the winters! The earth's mysterious turning-within." (Rilke)

It may not "officially" be winter but I prefer to pay attention to what I feel in my blood. Could we feel this storm coming?

"I can tell by the way the trees beat, after so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes that a storm is coming."

I secretly enjoy how a storm slows us down and perhaps, urges us to "turn-within."  It slows down city life and the racing, frantic culture in which  we find ourselves; perhaps, trapped. Some times when a storm comes, schools and work places have delays or even closures. As kids, do we remember the excitement of a snow day? Yippee! Time to get the sleds and play outside.  A break from the routine. As we dipped between the hills on our sleds, we slipped into another time and place, entering another world. I don't know how much that "other world" exists anymore for us, or our kids, but I still look for those "in-between" places.

As adults, it is more difficult to slow down, slip away, and find those "in-between" places.  Yet, when a storm comes,  we might remember  and feel in our blood, a slowing down, and a peculiar turning within.  We can almost sigh a moment of relief.  With the Earth, we mysteriously turn-within. We change our cadence, and for a few brief moments relax, allowing the storm to dominate our lives.

"If only we would let ourselves be dominated as things do by some immense storm, we would become strong too, and not need names." 

For most of us, the storm, no longer dominates our lives. Other things dominate. Our names (and what people expect from us), work, our schedules, making money, shopping, stresses of the holidays. How ironic that while the earth is "mysteriously turning within," and we might begin slowing down and turning within ourselves, we have the demands of the  holiday "season" (is it really a season?) heaped upon us.

I personally, would prefer to plunge in-between the hills and snowbanks. Let the snow from the storm be heaped upon me and my all too often frantic life. In that quiet place, I might, for a moment, slow and turn within, and remember another time and place.