Still, Still, Still
This is the title of one of my favorite Christmas songs. And it’s a good reminder at this hectic time of year to just stop and “Be still.”
We specialize in extreme winter weather here in Montana, with unimaginable temperatures (we’ve seen the thermometer on our back porch dip to -40), fierce winter winds and blinding blizzards that intimidate even the most experienced of drivers. But the snow storms of my childhood in northern Utah covered my world in a heavy wet blanket of white silence that could still even the most rambunctious child on Christmas Eve. My ultimate picture of stillness is a winter evening with the snow falling gently in the light of the lamppost on the corner. Several inches of newly fallen snow on the sidewalk muffles my footsteps as I walk the block to my aunt’s house. It is so still, so totally silent, that I imagine I am in another world entirely. It is to that stillness, albeit only in my mind, that I retreat when life’s demands (and my body’s inability to meet them) overwhelm me.
This is the title of one of my favorite Christmas songs. And it’s a good reminder at this hectic time of year to just stop and “Be still.”
We specialize in extreme winter weather here in Montana, with unimaginable temperatures (we’ve seen the thermometer on our back porch dip to -40), fierce winter winds and blinding blizzards that intimidate even the most experienced of drivers. But the snow storms of my childhood in northern Utah covered my world in a heavy wet blanket of white silence that could still even the most rambunctious child on Christmas Eve. My ultimate picture of stillness is a winter evening with the snow falling gently in the light of the lamppost on the corner. Several inches of newly fallen snow on the sidewalk muffles my footsteps as I walk the block to my aunt’s house. It is so still, so totally silent, that I imagine I am in another world entirely. It is to that stillness, albeit only in my mind, that I retreat when life’s demands (and my body’s inability to meet them) overwhelm me.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed,
The world is sleeping,
Holy Star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
Wishing you stillness, as you contemplate the beauty of the season.
1 comment:
Thinking of you at Christmas, Catherine. Thank you for this post, I am one of those people who is never still. I might not have the snow to show me the beauty of stillness, but I hear what you are saying! Mele Kalikimaka and a Happy Holiday to you and yours. Aloha, Susie
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