I love the stillness of a snowy winter evening. The quiet cacophony as each tiny snowflake lands with a small *tink* and, for a few moments, maybe a few hours, all is calm, still, yet expansive. I like to think that those small, quiet *tinks* of the snowflakes are the universe calling us to take a deep breath while it whispers, “Shhh. Be quiet and know you are this. All of this.” And then, once every flake has landed, we go back to our dreams of the outer world and the illusions of our “small selves” to forget our unity, our stillness, our expansiveness so that we can create and dance or destroy and wail, however we decide for that time to dream.
