I went to a convention for five days in a land of cold where there were icy blue skies and snow-covered mountain peaks. It was invigorating—cold sunshine and visible breath. I basked in that chill because it was Winter at her most attractive.

Coming home was, as always, a return to my touchstone. Disembarking from the plane, the soft warmth embraced me and I was full of the usual anticipation to greet my family of humans and my family of cats. I knew the humans would hug me but was uncertain if the cats would hiss or purr!

The change in climate between the locations was less about the change in temperature, however, than the change process itself. When I left San José, we were still sitting in the bare branch part of a California winter; when I returned, there were little leaf-lets on the trees, there were also flowers on other trees, the poppies were opening and, everywhere I looked, there was birthing going on. The landscape was taking on that lushness that seems to be part of Spring.

On my morning strolls, I marveled at the newness, the freshness, and the abundance. As my eyes appreciated, my thoughts took the turn that they take every Spring. Why do I keep forgetting, I asked myself, what Nature is showing me so dramatically. That is, when I am feeling that Divine discontent, I need that same incubation period, that time of desolation or, perhaps, that seeming immobility prior to the re-birth that I see in Nature?

During that incubation time, I have discovered that I must continue my spiritual practices mindfully and regularly. The fact that absolutely nothing seems to be happening is simply an appearance. Beneath the observable, there is the on-going work of building my spiritual muscle, of becoming more conscious, of recognizing and celebrating Grace in my life.

At the right and perfect time, I leave the plateau of stasis just like Winter transforms into Spring. I am delighted that I had that few days away; now, I can embrace the winter that is occurring within.