It’s 9 degrees Fahrenheit, clear and bright early in the morning. I walk to the part of the backyard where I do my walking meditation.
The snow is two feet deep. The top layer is solid and thick. It is not a sheet of ice but it feels like it.
The sun is intense.
As I move I notice the top layer is unexpectedly softer in spots and a few times I fall through the surface. The snow comes up to my knees.
I get to the spot where I start my meditation and turn so the sun isn’t blinding me and walk towards the pine trees.
I move slowly and walk quietly.
I hear the crows.
Wind passes through my gloves.
My finger tips become cold.
Ice crystals form in my eyebrows.
I feel my body feeling.
My mind runs away. It’s gone.
Then it comes back.
I’m here again.
I watch my mind thinking.
My feet move.
I barely perceive that I’m moving.
The trees that were far away become closer.
10 minutes pass.
I’ve moved 50 yards and I can’t remember taking a step.
I was somewhere behind me.
Now I am here.
I stay on the surface.
I don’t sink.
I float.