Mystical Snow

I had opportunity to shovel snow this week. 

As a Canadian, this is not a surprising turn of events in the winter months. 

However, this time I was shovelling with some friends; we we’re working together to clear the driveway. 

It was one of those clear, beautiful evenings where the flakes were continuing to descend, floating carelessly through the air. It was almost mystical to experience the silence, as though we could reach through the veil of this world and encounter the divine directly. 

While I realize there are scientific reasons for the silence during a snowfall, I also recognize that mysticism is like a snowfall. It catches our attention, as it inspires us to look deeper into the reality that we are dwelling within. It fires within us a yearning for something more, increased understanding, deeper meaning. The presence of the divine is undeniable, in how we feel, how we engage, and how we interact with one another.

The precise moment cannot be captured, but it may be remembered. It cannot be contained physically, but it will continue to hold a place in our hearts. It may not be astonishing to everyone who is there, but to those who are open to receive it, the glory of God is there.

Like snowflakes: unique, precious, abundant (more than desired at times!), the grace of God flows and amasses in our lives. And how we choose to acknowledge one to this grace, alone or with people we care about, is entirely our decision. 

Our time of shovelling may not be the experience that many would consider to be holy (for it is such a regular occurrence, often considered a chore to be endured or outsourced to children or entrepreneurs) For myself, it was sacred: we were gathered for a shared purpose for the benefit of us all, we were laughing as we engaged in the requisite task, and we did the work that was before us. And there was play. It was lovely. 

The mystics teach us about finding the presence of the divine in the ordinariness of everyday life. The presence of God is undeniable, even in such mundane moments as shovelling snow. The holiness comes to us when we recognize the holy presence is as ordinary as a snowflake.