White snow still covers the lake. It’s been a long winter. And just because there is nothing I can do about that – I think, what a relief, really.

The darn snow will last as long as it pleases. I spend way too much time trying to control other matters. But weather?

In Bob Dylan’s Chronicles, he hits a long, long dead time in his career. He doesn’t perform for a stretch and then, when he does he realizes he’s going through the motions, appearing on stage, but he’s lost that deeper sense of connection to his music and his audience. It lasts so long he thinks he’s done. Then he wanders into a jazz performance; he feels the dynamism of what is happening for this performer. Somehow it re-ignites the flame within himself and he finds that inner connection. This begins this whole revival of himself and his music.

In reading this, I see – yes, inside each of us there are seasons. As much as we want to be ON, as this digital age is always promoting, how true to nature is that? Who knows how long the dead time, “the snow” might linger? How to honor the truth inside oneself versus that urge to push, regardless?

I know, in my life, I run into patches, sometimes long segments, where life takes me away from my art. And I watch how, due to injury or life’s interruptions, my friends must take a break from creating. But then, how natural. And how about that time that is just “winter” in your creative life? Is there room for a deep breath? Incubation. Easy time.

A recognition that it’s all okay. That I am enough. That you are enough. Just as is. In any season.