The sun shining against the recent fallen snow is blinding. As I scan the landscape, I need to squint. When I close my eyes, brilliant orbs of light dance behind my eyelids; reminders of the brightness that I have just witnessed. The flash of a sunbeam passing through an icicle catches my eye. I cannot look away.
The brilliance of the sun dancing over the microscopic ice crystal snowflakes that one by one have magically fallen from the sky above to land softly at my feet and pile inch upon inch astounds me. Something so delicate and small creating such grand splendor. I cannot look away.
Winter's light is so unlike that of summer. There is no haze to distort. There are few clouds in the blue sky above to blanket the ground below. There is tremendous stillness as the trees have shed their leaves and all that remains are skeleton arms reaching up to the birds to invite them to rest. I cannot look away.
Few shadows form in the sun of winter. There is a rawness to the exposure. There is a relief in the openness and an awareness in the exposure. My soul has stepped out into this light to be seen. My soul has entered into the rays of light to be illuminated and healed. The stark brightness is blinding. And I cannot look away.
Do you see yourself differently in your season of winter? Do you find that your light shines and radiates in ways that are less shrouded? Do you allow your vulnerability to be exposed instead of seeking cover from the possible burning rays? Don't look away. Find how your soul stands in the light of your winter. Learn how she shines. Learn how she dances. Learn how she feels to be so exposed to the element of your winter. Don't look away.