Thank You, Mr. Frost.
My magical winter wonderland walk through the woods. On an island. And yes, that's water off to the right. Swooooooon. xo
Do you remember your first experience with public speaking?
And I'm not talking about something light and fluffy in front of your Girl Scout troop. I'm talking serious public speaking. The kind where you feel nauseous and your palms get sweaty.
I was in the third grade (I'm sure one of my classmates will recall my scintillating rendition and correct me if I am wrong and it was actually the fourth grade), and I was chosen to read a lovely poem at an outdoor assembly. There were students and parents and a band and a podium involved.
The poem was by Robert Frost – Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. And the words are still
etched in my memory. For the most part.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
I've always loved that poem. Maybe because it marked my public speaking debut. Maybe because
something about walking down a snowy, wooded path near a body of water resonated with my spirit and was part of my soul.
And when something is part of your soul, it never leaves you.
Today, I made the time to take a walk around my favorite little local island here in Maine. In the snow.
It was magical and peaceful and this poem kept floating through my head, like the fluffy snowflakes
that were slowly coating my hat, coat and scarf.
I didn't wake up knowing I'd be out walking in the snow today. But when I woke up, it had just started snowing, and I felt a calling to be out there "in the midst of it" that was as strong and unchangeable
as what a young woman probably experiences when she feels the calling to join a nunnery.
Thankfully, I got to wear a cuter hat.
I'm absolutely positive nuns would feel and look happier if they could wear cute,
colorful, cuddly knitted woolen hats...with pom poms!
When I'm walking through a forest conveniently located next to an ocean, I am in heaven. Add snow
to the mix and the sound of a train whistle as it passes through a nearby town and it's pretty much an orgasmic experience. I mean, really, the only thing that could be better would be stumbling upon a tiny cozy cabin in a clearing, with a roaring fire in the fireplace, a bed decked out with linen, cotton and cashmere...and Jon Hamm lying there next to a bunch of candles, saying the following in a low, sexy voice: "I've been waiting for you all my life and I have some beef bourguignon in the oven."
While I was on my adventure, I felt deliriously happy, at peace and completely "at home"...with myself and with the Divine. (I am henceforth using Divine instead of the Universe...something I intended to
implement in 2020, but I see no reason to put off till tomorrow what I can do today!)
And I was reminded of how true it is that we can only bring happiness and positivity to the world if we are nurturing our own heart and soul. And connecting with our essence. And indulging (it's not actually an indulgence but a necessity) in those things that make us feel like "all is well" no matter what kind of shenanigans are going on out there in our lives and in the world that are beyond our control.
I hope you take some time to do something today and every day to make you feel truly at home with yourself. Because home isn't a building or people. It's that feeling you get inside when you know, innately, that all is as it is meant to be. That you and your life are just perfect at this moment.
And if anyone with a direct line to Santa is reading this, please tell him you know what I'd like for Christmas. With or without the beef bourguignon. ;)
Love and snow and coziness and all of that good stuff to all of you on this December evening.
Rejoice in feeding your own soul. You're the only one who knows exactly what you need.