Today I sat outside under my favorite tree and watched the snow fall around me. The sun was shining on the pine branches as they quickly turned frosty white.
I have two huskies and they were hanging out with me in my cozy nest/fort.
Truth telling here in all my years of living in Canada, (the land of igloos and such) I had never acquired a fondness for winter. In fact I am kind of a water baby which can be severely limited for several months in my part of the world. Nope, no frosty red cheeks and furry hats for this kid: until now.
Responsible dog owner that I am I find myself outside everyday for at least two hours. I am the postie mantra “through rain or snow or sleet or hail” only for me the ending is ” geez do they have to go out again?” So I don my furry hat, pull on my ugly Blundstones that allow me to wear three pair of wool socks, my wool mitts, my down coat (by now I am seriously suffering from a mid-life hot flash and want to tear all of this off), put both dogs on their leads and head out into that cold.
I share this with you in light of the recent passing of Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse and the great MJ.
Icons created out of their creativity by those who adored them, and the numbers were in the millions. I wonder how well they lived, how well had they learned the true art of living. How much of them did we see truly and how much of what we saw was wrapped in a blanket of protection induced by drugs and/or alcohol?
The practice of being only in this moment, the present moment, offers such wisdom and clarity. There is no past there is no future there is only now. I watch my dogs playing, always in the present moment, and give thanks for the snow falling on my face.
Taking time to offer compassion for those who suffer I know present moment is truly a gift in the art of living.
Artists in their own right, creating art for others, is the cost a compromise in the art of living?
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