The snow has finally come to us in the Okanagan Valley. We have passed through a warm early winter with the deepest excursions into winter being the gray spray of clouds on the water and the obscuring trail of dark icing on the hills. There have been winds warning us something was coming. And now it is here. The snow fell through the day, the late afternoon and at night. As I stood in my upstairs window, I could see it floating down under the street light.

And today the blue sky is crisscrossed by tree limbs obscured by clinging snow. The birds who disappeared somewhere, I don’t know where are back showing themselves on branches. They are absorbing the sunlight, taking to the air, enjoying the opportunity to fly.

Tomorrow, I will be back on the sidewalk with my broken handled yellow snow shovel attempting to keep the walkway clear for those who want a solid footing.

It is a lesson in attachment. The reaction and emotional involvement in the weather is tiring and ultimately useless. Watching weather front move across the lid of the valley is mindfulness practice.

The wind came. And offered me a chance to be fearful that branches would break off and attack my house. The gray graffiti mural artist wrote across the sky some message of clouds. I could have told myself I was deprived of sunlight, or connection to a more spacious view of the vault above us. And then the snow. It fell. It fell. It fell. And it brought with it obstruction of the roadways and highways.

I watched social media fill up with reactions that reminded me of people lashing out at old mean natured ex partner. I hate… him, her, that. I want another…person…partner…reality.

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And watching the patterns of the seasons in my life, is very instructive. At Christmas, because of past traumas, my mindfulness practice is abysmal. I choose to be depressed for weeks on end. I choose to feel unloved and incapable of positive change. It is a yearly season of the monsoon of mind flooding.

But now, now I can say, “How do I feel about this weather?” And the answer is the weather doesn’t care. It is now and now changes. It is the particular combination of moisture, wind, artic conditions. My job is to find a way to fit into what is.

The way I train my mind is to say, “Well, this is an adventure.” Yes. I do say that. It is like jollying on a dog to go outside and be in the day.

Yesterday, I walked 11 thousand steps shovelling my sidewalk. And I said to myself, “Look, you are having an adventure.”

The weather does not care what I think of it. It is up to me to find a way to live in whatever is happening. And, hey, I had heat and Netflix. It was a good month with lots of weather adventures.