The Bleak Season

New Moon Greetings from a cold, stark outpost in Upstate New York. The landscape of my childhood is at its most bleak in January and February. It’s not the cozy, fluffy holiday snow of November and December, nor is it the promising chill rain of March, nourishing the tender shoots of plants peeking up from the ground.

January here is sleet, ice, and freezing rain, barren trees against a white sky, slick roads, the crunchy dead heads of last year’s flowers poking up out of the mud, streaks of salt and dirt on the sides of cars, bunches of iced-over leaves in the drain spouts, a searing knife of frigid air in the lungs when you walk outside, and perpetually cold feet. It’s harsh! And it can really heighten the itch of cabin fever, the gloom of seasonal depression, and the haunting aura of rumination over past hurts.

In the dharma, we train our minds to accept everything exactly as it is, and to learn to see the beauty in it all. There is beauty in joy, in flowers, in loving moments, but there is also beauty in grief, in chaos, and in hardship. Committing to the beauty in all of it, in the hardship as well as in the ease, doesn’t eliminate our pain or change our circumstances, but it changes our minds and gives us the potential for a redemptive quality to emerge even from hard times or ugly situations.

So this winter, as I am unexpectedly here in this wind-battered austere place, I am looking at it all with my dharma eyes. The slow drip of rain from the eaves after a storm, the glossy black fur of the cat sleeping in front of the fireplace, the welcome coziness of wool socks, the soft silence of the neighborhood when no one wants to go out in the weather, and the kind gestures of the community that has been sending love, good wishes, gifts, flowers, and food to my mom as she recovers from surgery. Especially that last part…I remember how, when I was growing up, in the depths of this coldest time of year the people of our town created our own warmth with little acts of care. It’s the beauty of comfort amidst the bleakness.

When we feel like things are at their worst, or even when they aren’t at their worst but they are cold, dark, flat, or uninspiring, we can conjure a little spark of light for ourselves, for those we love, and for our communities. In fact, when we don’t feel so great, doing something for someone else might be easier than trying to do something for ourselves. We might feel stuck, blocked, or challenged, and we might not be sure how to exit that feeling, but since we certainly don’t want anyone else feeling that way, we have a motive for offering gestures of kindness.

Lunar Imbolc and Chinese New Year are upon us this weekend, and with them, a chance to adjust our view, to find or create beauty, no matter what else might be happening. Although this is typically a time of inward reflection, perhaps this weekend we might re-energize ourselves by taking one step out for the benefit of someone else. It can be quiet, it doesn’t need to be a big deal. Be a secret benefactor by making an anonymous donation, dropping off a flower on someone’s doorstep, or sending someone a little token of appreciation. Give someone a compliment on the street. Schedule a visit or call with someone you know who spends most of their time alone. Send a little handwritten card. Any small gesture that creates a wave of love and care.

And then, with that light behind your eyes, watch how your world begins to transform.

Thank you for bringing your beauty-kindness into the world,
Yeshe