In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Under the Snow.”
I have been trying to keep up with daily gratitude practices for a few years now, I go through stretches of time where I do them every day as well as stretches where I’m just “too busy” to even think of it. If I were trapped under the snow I think this would be the first thing to come up for me. I would think of all the things I’m grateful for and let the warmth of those blessings lead me into dreams of escaping this awful freezing fate. I know I would also think in particular of my loved ones, sending them messages of hope and peace, acknowledging how hurtful it would be for them to lose me from the physical plane. And I would think of all the things i hadn’t done yet, all of the goals that I needed to survive in order to achieve, the fears I needed to face, and the living connections I needed to make.
Having lived for nearly three decades with one foot in the vast darkness of the spiritual plane, this would not be my first close encounter with the very realness of death as we know it. With that in mind, I think I would actually be rather accepting of the idea that “this may be my time” and I imagine myself finding a dreamy medium of equanimity. Surrendering my whole self, and not just to death, but to the moment of the unknown in it’s entirety – to accept that I may live and I may die and that either way I know I would be where I belong.