Today was the first snow of the season. We went out for a 6 mile trot, and it was beautiful. But it was also snowing … in my face. I found myself wanting to push, to hurry up and finish so I could escape back to the comfort and warmth of indoors. As we left town and headed into the wooded part of the route, I could heard the sweet and gentle voice of my guide whisper to me, “Patience, patience, patience.”
We slowed our pace, alternately walking and jogging, without any push. We let the snow fall into our faces, and fog our glasses. We listened to the hush of the world, and it was glorious. I came home to open up one of my favorite books, EARTH PRAYERS, and found this piece that captures how I am feeling this morning:
To live content with small means,
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion,
to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich,
to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with an open heart,
to bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely,
hurry never —
in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,
grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.
— by William Ellery Channing