Wintery Mindfulness

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep…” Robert Frost 1923

The words of Robert Frost’s poem reverberate in my mind as I glide smoothly along the once pristine tracks, now filled with new fallen snow. The silence of winter envelopes me until I focus only on my breathing and on each kick and glide. The painful strain in my shoulders gradually eases as my stress and worries subside. While I know the easing will only be temporary, I welcome it. I feel as light as the flakes of snow now gently falling. The quiet attunes me to even the slightest rustle of desiccated beech leaves that have yet to release their grip and fall to the forest floor. Occasionally out of the corner of my eye I sense a small vole scurrying to a safer hiding place. Although alone, I am caressed by the forest. It feels good. The only demands are those I place on my own body. Do I push harder until every breath, every heartbeat, feels like I have consciously willed it. Or, do I just continue the long slow distance ski and allow my mind at times to wander and at other times to only allow entrance to the silence and peace? Afterall, “I have miles to go before I sleep.”