If you’re not careful, you could get buried in snow. Trapped indoors. Tricked into seeing lack rather than abundance. You could quite easily lose your way. Lose your will, lose your appreciation for the seasons. This past weekend we were lost. Lost in gratitude. Lost in appreciation. Lost in the magic of the Whiteshell. We were lost in fresh air, lining our lungs and hot tea boosting our spirits. We were lost in the sound of snow crunching beneath our shoes and birds flying overhead and the tranquility of silence.
We were hot saunas and warm muscles. We were roaring fires and stars lighting up the night. We were a string of constellations and a moon that lit up a white, crisp world. We were skating rinks and a blue prairie sky that stretched on until we could see no more. And then, we were grateful.
I hope you too were falling in love with winter this past weekend. A winter that is active, alive and fresh. We were shoulder to shoulder with our neighbours, new friends and nature. We were open possibilities and minds, knowing our environment is a reflection of our thoughts.
We were dressed in good gear, functional gear, gear that carried us from lake to lake, trail to trail, and tree to tree.
Today in the middle of a January day, without a worry, we came nose to nose with gratitude and got lost in our surroundings. A way of being that counted every blessing, each gift. Breath in our lungs, life in our limbs.
Playwright Anton Chekhov said, “People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.”
And so tonight from the lake we are happy, hearts full and minds right. We’re ready to start a new week, knowing we have left our footprints, our worries and our to-do lists behind. We were lost in the beauty of a warm winter weekend. And now we’re found.