I marveled at the snow capped peak’s beauty. Still autumn as I stood but winter had rested upon the mountain. I laughed as I shuddered thinking of the impending snow driving and shoveling. Perhaps the beauty was in the distance – winter was there and I was much warmer and dryer here. And then the whisper, “Would the mountains be less beautiful if you were standing in snow? If your eyes gazed upon the white peaks as you stood in winter’s grip?”

So easy to pray, meditate and ask for a loving heart, to be cleared of all hindrances, or to become enlightened and aware. So easy to hedge that such unfolding beauty, please, be done from a distance. Buddha, Jesus, Rumi, St John of the Cross and others met the winter’s dark night of the soul with feet implanted in the snow. The question truly is not whether the night will come. Our lives testify that it has, does, and will. The question becomes, will it come in answer to the bidding of a lover calling the Beloved “I am here! I am here! Dancing in the snow. Dancing in the mud from which the lotus blooms! Draw nigh dear Beloved. Draw nigh”