Snow Falling

There is a defining sound to the snow falling. As if when it blankets the world, it also muffles our ears by absorbing all the unnecessary sounds of the busy world to force us to find beauty in the cold. As the cigarette swoops down my throat, and the coffee fills in the scratches, my mind searched for a way to stay in this snow globe of peace.

Too often, I think, our minds are filled with raucous noise that blares out the thoughts. Many times, even if we are surrounded in silence, our minds work out the ways to keep us from the sliver lining of stopping the world around us. I read an article recently, not a new story and one I think many will be familiar with, a social experiment that was conducted by the Washington Post. The story is about Joshua Bell playing violin at a crowed subway during rush hour, incognito. He is one of the best violinists in the world, and almost only children noticed him. This is not the only story like this one, but the most famous. There are important lessons in it, that are inescapable.

We are all guilty of letting our lives over take our ability to notice and appreciate the world around us. We all have our own reasons for it too. From the fight we just had with a loved one, to the timing, to the authorities of the world coming down on our perfect snow globe of our lives. In one way or another we have all found ways in which we bypass beauty in this world so that our live’s troubles will be undisturbed. For that is what natural beauty does; it disturbs the troubles of our lives in ways that would make them seem less grandiose.

Beauty is not a distraction sent to help you forget, but rather a sense of perspective. The world will go on, before, during, and after whatever is this trouble that we are dealing with; and instead of stopping and noticing this one perfect moment of bliss that will never happen again, we curse it and move on in our busy lives of disappointments.

For troubles will pile, if we let them. One of my favorite poems that describes this point well is the poem from “The Tao of Pooh” by Ben Hoff called ‘The More it Snows’ (the proposed meaning of the poem is from Hoff, the poem itself is from AA Milne’s Whinny the Pooh).

The more it snows
tiddely pom,
The more it goes
tiddely pom,
The more it goes
tiddely pom
On snowing

And nobody knows
tiddely pom ,
How cold my toes
tiddely pom,
Are growing.

So then this is an old idea. Still it brings the truth that is so rarely found in today’s world, that is the idea of stopping and appreciating the beauty that is all around us. Allowing the natural world help to reduce the stress of the piling responsibilities, and troubles; for they will just grow and the world will keep spinning no matter how you handle or face them.

About 8petallotus

Here are the thoughts that hit me after everything is done and quiet, capturing the few moments of enlightenment between the grind and giving it a place to inspire. A place for yoga and divine inspiration.
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