Listening to Sacred Stillness: The Quiet of Winter Mornings

The Quiet of Winter Mornings

Each season has a unique quality all its own. The stillness of summer is different from that of autumn.

Now, with only a couple weeks of winter left in our hemisphere, we take the time to experience its stillness.

I was born and raised in a place where winter has real power, real ferocity. Cold temperatures and deep snow often make winter there a season to be survived.

I have lived in the land of endless summer for several years. The quiet of winter mornings is something I still remember.

It may be a blanket of snow which creates the hushed quiet of winter mornings. The quiet has a quality which sets it apart from other times of year and other parts of the day. The quiet of winter mornings draws us toward listening to sacred stillness.

The stillness of winter mornings is more than the way they sound. It is almost as if the world is reluctant to break into the quiet or disturb the calm. We do not want to break the stillness as we hope to avoid leaving footprints in the fresh snow.

Sitting by a fire, feeling the warmth and listening to stillness, we realize how sacred it is. Looking out the window we watch the sun rise slowly in the sky.

Winter is a season of drawing rest and sustenance from the world around us. We remember how rooted we are and recognize our place in the larger picture.

The quiet of winter mornings reminds us we need to take time to listen.

There is still a little time for us to revel in the quiet of a few more winter mornings this year.

The Darkness of Winter Mornings

Winter is, by definition, wherever we are, the season with the shortest periods of daylight. The dark of winter mornings helps us slow down and take our time.

Our alarm goes off and we are awakened into the dark of winter mornings. We could turn over, pull the blankets around us, and go back to sleep for just a few more minutes. It can be a challenge for us to get up and start our days.

Hibernation seems like such a natural way to get through winter.

The darkness all around us encourages us to look inward.

As winter turns into spring, little by little each day, we lose the benefit of darkness. Our mornings become lighter and it is often easier for us to get up and get moving.

Our hibernation draws to an end.

It becomes more challenging for us to take our time, to listen each morning.

The seeds of our practice of listening to sacred stillness are sown in the darkness of winter mornings.

We do not need to turn on the lights to listen. Sitting in the darkness we close our eyes and allow the stillness to embrace us. The darkness helps eliminate the things outside us which distract us.

As the days gain daylight the colors and sights hidden by darkness emerge and draw our eyes. We develop disciplines to take the place of the darkness of winter mornings.

It becomes more of a challenge for us to sit quietly, rocking slowly, and listen well.

We may need to set aside time each day or each week to practice listening. It is no longer possible to depend on the darkness each morning to help us remember.

The Cold, Fresh Air of Winter Mornings

The air is different in winter, particularly in the morning.

Even where I live, in seemingly endless summer, the air has a quality of freshness. After it has rained the sky is fresh and clear.

The temperature of the air often has a clarifying effect on us. We need our intentions to be clear and firm before we emerge from the blankets each day.

We breathe the fresh, cold air into our lungs and it feels like icicles. The cold air of winter mornings can slow us down and inspire our awareness at the same time.

It feels like the air is scrubbing us clean, inside and out.

We take steps immediately to loosen the grip the cold, fresh air has on us. Getting the heater going, rebuilding the fire, moving around gets us started each morning.

The chill of a winter morning helps us listen with intention. We take time waiting for heat to reach us. Sitting in the quiet, the darkness, and the cold, we open ourselves to deeper truths.

Crisp, fresh air gives way to warmer mornings with the aroma of flowers and of planting. The contemplation of winter mornings is shaped, day by day, into spring.

Letting Go of Winter Mornings

Winter gradually becomes spring and our mornings are transformed. It becomes less likely we will take time for listening to sacred stillness each morning. Our schedules and responsibilities exert themselves. It becomes more difficult for us to spend time listening each morning.

We look forward with anticipation as spring arrives each year. Spring reminds us of the potential of each day.

It can be easy for us to lose sight of the benefits of winter mornings. We remember how dark and cold they were, but forget we had time to listen well.

Our years begin in winter. Winter mornings help us remember to listen to sacred stillness. The quiet, the darkness, even the freshness of the air remind us to take our time. There are sacred truths waiting of us in the quiet, the darkness, to cold air.

We will be out and about, on the go, soon enough. Winter mornings are fading away a little more each day.

There are still lessons of winter mornings for us to recognize and learn. They give us things to ponder as winter becomes spring, which becomes summer.

Each morning is a new beginning.

How will we listen to sacred stillness this morning?

What lessons of winter mornings will you remember as winter becomes spring?

[Image by Accretion Disc]

Greg Richardson is a spiritual life mentor and leadership coach in Southern California. He is a recovering attorney and university professor, and a lay Oblate with New Camaldoli Hermitage near Big Sur, California. Greg’s website is StrategicMonk.com, and his email address is StrategicMonk@gmail.com.