Unless you have spent time in a cold, dark climate during a snowstorm, you might not have had the privilege of experiencing total, profound silence. As it happens, I live on a famous scenic highway (M22) in northwestern lower Michigan, very close to the big lake. But I am between two small villages that are summer resort destinations and on a blustery day like today hours go by without a vehicle passing. There is the occasional snow plow, for which we are grateful. I hear the furnace click on and the refrigerator run if I happen to be in the kitchen. Otherwise, nothing. It is blissful.

Right now, almost the middle of January, we have about two feet of snow on the ground. Snow acts as a buffer. The days are dusky at best, grey…and so very peaceful. Soft. Otherworldly. Magical. The nights are loud because of the coyotes. But the days are absolutely silent. I treasure this time. I wouldn’t trade it for all the sunshine in the world. This is my heaven.

It has taken nearly seventy years for me to come to this appreciation. When I was younger and always scrambling to catch up it was torture. Dull. Barren, bereft of life. Now I see the contrast of the birches against the bank of conifers through the huge white flurries, and am delighted. Of course, I am also retired and not digging myself out of a drift to white-knuckle it to work late…so I guess everything is relative.

I need this silence now. I’m realizing that the last year took a toll on me. This feels like a reprieve, a moment to catch my breath and renew my strength. Since we are addressing this room full of elephants this week, let me confess what I am only now coming to know: the last election broke me. It broke my heart. All my grief has come to light. It was a metaphorical – and perhaps actual – wake up call; a turning point. The world will never be the same.

And I need to incorporate this shift into my psyche, to pivot. To turn my attention elsewhere and learn to see the world otherwise. I will focus my newly committed attention on beauty. I will find the magic in living a heart-focused present. I will live in love – with my life, with all of nature, with the few souls I trust, and with the silence. I will appreciate every moment. Because I can no longer look outward for any indication of peace, for any encouragement that mankind is evolving or waking up or remotely interested in a better world. I can no longer be emotionally invested.

And I can only believe that this new approach is a healing. It’s a good thing. Now is the definitive divide between third and fifth dimensional reality, and although I have lost a lot and will surely lose more, I will not look back. I will sit perfectly still for now. For now I am winter.