I'm sitting in my bed in my soft purple dressing gown, with my furry boy Leo snuggled very close.He is purring in his sleep and we are both happy.
Yesterday was 6 January, in Germany it is known as the "Holy Three Kings"and in England "the Day of the Epiphany". I have always loved that wonderful sounding word. I have been reading about it a bit in the last few days and love the fact that it comes from the Greek, used in one of three ways- at the first glimpse of dawn-the first light, at the first sight of one's enemy, and for a manifestation of God. So the day is called that because according to tradition it was the day that the three wise men caught their first glimpse of Jesus.
In a personal context, to have an epiphany means to have a deep and moving realisation, a moment of enlightenment, usually preceded by some form of toil.
More mundanely, it is also the day that the season's decorations usually come down and so I dismantled my shocking pink Christmas tree and other bits and bobs; Monica was still here and helped me with that. I was thinking about the Christmas days just past and how meaningful they were to me. I really feel in a very different space with myself and the world since coming back off my holiday. I have had my head surrounded by snowflakes, like magical fairy dust and can't stop thinking about the lovely days strolling through Munich, watching children iceskating, drinking Gluhwein and admiring numerous lit-up Christmas trees, and nativity scenes.
I realised that the pervading theme of the holiday was snow. In the weeks preceding the holiday I was constantly checking the forcast, my money very much on a white Christmas. Although the Christmas was not snowy where we were staying, we found heaps of beautiful fresh fluffy snow not far away, and enjoyed it thoroughly. There is something about snow that just brings joy to my heart and lifts my mood.
On the last morning of the holiday I woke up with the memory of a short story by Truman Capote. Many years ago I was sitting with a group of close friends; I was about to embark on a long life-changing journey, not to return for a while. We were reading passages to each other which had special meaning, and one friend read the this extract. A group of friends are sitting around talking about life, and one person asks the question, ''If there was one moment in your life that was worth living for, what would it be?" Another immediately answers, "Snow".
For years the word ''snow'' evoked the comfort and closeness of true friendship, and I always had it as part of my email address. What is it that makes snow so magic? It mutes the harshness of the world, softens the lines, creates a feeling of peace and intimacy and is just unbelievable romantic. It also makes everything look incredibly clean. Walking arm in arm with the loved one through the city in the evening surrounded by a veil of feathery snow flakes drifting from the sky was just an unforgettable experience. Knowing that each flake is unique, just like every moment of my life.
I wonder if the Magi encountered snow on their journey; it is unlikely, but possible. I wonder if snow might have been part of their epiphany, just as it was for me this Christmas.
I wish for us to cherish each moment like each complete and perfect snowflake, and may we find peaceful and intimate islands in our day to stop rushing and let the fairy dust settle a while on our shoulders.
Yesterday was 6 January, in Germany it is known as the "Holy Three Kings"and in England "the Day of the Epiphany". I have always loved that wonderful sounding word. I have been reading about it a bit in the last few days and love the fact that it comes from the Greek, used in one of three ways- at the first glimpse of dawn-the first light, at the first sight of one's enemy, and for a manifestation of God. So the day is called that because according to tradition it was the day that the three wise men caught their first glimpse of Jesus.
In a personal context, to have an epiphany means to have a deep and moving realisation, a moment of enlightenment, usually preceded by some form of toil.
More mundanely, it is also the day that the season's decorations usually come down and so I dismantled my shocking pink Christmas tree and other bits and bobs; Monica was still here and helped me with that. I was thinking about the Christmas days just past and how meaningful they were to me. I really feel in a very different space with myself and the world since coming back off my holiday. I have had my head surrounded by snowflakes, like magical fairy dust and can't stop thinking about the lovely days strolling through Munich, watching children iceskating, drinking Gluhwein and admiring numerous lit-up Christmas trees, and nativity scenes.
I realised that the pervading theme of the holiday was snow. In the weeks preceding the holiday I was constantly checking the forcast, my money very much on a white Christmas. Although the Christmas was not snowy where we were staying, we found heaps of beautiful fresh fluffy snow not far away, and enjoyed it thoroughly. There is something about snow that just brings joy to my heart and lifts my mood.
On the last morning of the holiday I woke up with the memory of a short story by Truman Capote. Many years ago I was sitting with a group of close friends; I was about to embark on a long life-changing journey, not to return for a while. We were reading passages to each other which had special meaning, and one friend read the this extract. A group of friends are sitting around talking about life, and one person asks the question, ''If there was one moment in your life that was worth living for, what would it be?" Another immediately answers, "Snow".
For years the word ''snow'' evoked the comfort and closeness of true friendship, and I always had it as part of my email address. What is it that makes snow so magic? It mutes the harshness of the world, softens the lines, creates a feeling of peace and intimacy and is just unbelievable romantic. It also makes everything look incredibly clean. Walking arm in arm with the loved one through the city in the evening surrounded by a veil of feathery snow flakes drifting from the sky was just an unforgettable experience. Knowing that each flake is unique, just like every moment of my life.
I wonder if the Magi encountered snow on their journey; it is unlikely, but possible. I wonder if snow might have been part of their epiphany, just as it was for me this Christmas.
I wish for us to cherish each moment like each complete and perfect snowflake, and may we find peaceful and intimate islands in our day to stop rushing and let the fairy dust settle a while on our shoulders.
