Forget hot yoga, try cold meditation!

I am standing in the middle of our driveway, looking to the south, face tipped up to the sun, eyes closed. It has warmed up significantly the past couple of days to a balmy -10C, but in the sun it feels much warmer. My north side feels the chill bite of the north wind and the tops of my ears are prickling with the cold. I know I should have a touque on, but I can’t bring myself to cover my ears.

I’m listening to the sounds of a bright northern winter day, my mind clear of thought except to identify and appreciate what I hear.

To the south, across the road in our neighbour’s spruce trees, I hear the chirring of a red squirrel. Behind me, I hear the answering chatter from a squirrel in our own trees.

I can hear the grosbeaks at the bird feeder; the splintering crack as they pop open the black oil sunflower seeds I put out for them. There is a sudden flurry of activity and the rustling whisper of feathered wings spreading as they take flight.

A black-capped chickadee chirps and whistles in the sleeping tree to my left, a May Day tree that will be covered with its fragrant white blossoms in just a few months.

A mile to the west – a low drone of traffic passing by on the highway.

I’m amazed by the variety of sounds I can hear when I stop and focus my listening and my mind.

I open my eyes.

In the hours before this morning’s dawn, it snowed. The ground is covered in a layer of powder that sparkles like a million diamonds as the sun shines down brightly. With the slightest breath of north wind, the snow stirs, flakes as light as downy feathers tumbling over one another before settling again.

I turn to the north, pulling up my hood because my ears no longer prickle from the cold. That’s not a good thing, the absence of sensation a warning of frostbite.

I look up at a cloudless sky that is the most brilliant shade of azure blue. My heart swells with gratitude that my eyes can see such beauty and my ears can hear the music of nature.

I’m wondering why I have been so critical of not disciplining myself to hold to a regular meditation practice? Because as I stand beneath the warming rays of a late winter sun, my feet firmly planted on the earth, I know my spirit is soaking up the beauty and the peace.

This. This IS meditation.

When was the last time you stood in silence, let your thoughts go and was simply present in that moment and in that space?

My life now is nowhere near as busy as it used to be, but I remember rushing through my days, struggling to get my ‘to-do’ list finished. It seemed there were more demands on my attention than I could manage. I wonder how different I would have felt if I had slowed down long enough for a few minutes of mindful silence each day?

These times spent basking in the sunshine or walking through the woods, have become the most significant part of my current spiritual practice. I feel connected and at peace with myself in these moments.

Where is that place for you? Where do you go to feel at peace?

Maybe you are like me, a tree hugger, and it is in a vast grove of trees that you feel the magnificent stillness of nature so clearly that it fills every space in you. Or maybe, for you, it’s in a church. It could be that your place is fishing a quiet stream or curled up in a chair with a special book.

And it could be that you are still caught up in the busyness of life, too hurried and too harried to take time for yourself.

If so, I encourage you to take two minutes, just two, and find a place where you can be uninterrupted. Stand with your eyes closed. Let go of your thoughts and just listen. Tune in to what’s going on around you and then what’s going on inside you. Then come back here and tell me about it. I’d love to hear what your meditation sounds like!