“An artist is merely someone with good listening skills who accesses the creative energy of the Universe to bring forth something on the material plane that wasn’t there before. It was a part of Spirit before we could see it as a book. a painting, a ballet, a film.” ~Sarah Ban Breathnach

Over the weekend, we received the first snow fall of the season. And I have to go on record and say it was just in time! I had mentioned to a friend earlier in the week that the continuing good weather had begun to wear on me and mess with my internal, creative rhythms. You see, I need a certain amount of incubation time that only winter seems to provide. For me, there is nothing like the ruminating that can happen when snow has rendered travel a less than viable option. There is nothing like staring out the window as the flakes fall slowly to the ground, transforming the landscape before your very eyes, knowing that the only wise track to take is to stay put. Oh, rain will do in a creative pinch, and provides its own inspiration, but a snowfall holds within it danger, romance, frivolity and sheer magic. What better way to feed your inner muse than by being gripped by a snowstorm? No matter your creative outlet……cooking, knitting, painting, writing, napping….a good snowstorm will never disappoint.

This year,the way in which the summer/autumn seemed to want to be the guest that wouldn’t leave was stalling my winter mulling. Internally, you see,  I sense Advent ‘s imminent arrival and have desire to ruminate on the gifts of this mysterious, life-bearing season. But how to do that with the roses still blooming on the stems outside the church? It seemed impossible to me to think of planning for all December offers while some people were still walking around in shorts!

Now I know the seasons are not imperative for many people to get in touch with their creative side. After all, much creative work happens in warm months and creativity flourishes in warm and wonderful places. But for those of us who need the incubation that going into the cave of darkness and cold provides, much like returning to the womb, there is nothing better than the experience of the first snow fall. “Now,” we say, ” the real work begins. Now the reflective life calls. Now is the time to stare into the middle distance while the poem takes form, while the problem is solved, while the seeds take root.”

For those of you who find your muse for whatever your creative outlet in the warm, summer like months, God bless you. Those of us who need the gifts that only ice, snow, and dark days can offer beg your indulgence. The fact is the world needs us all.  The world needs the creativity of summer sun dancers and winter blues artists. The world needs the heat of a good steamy novel and the longing of a sparse poem. So let’s celebrate the dance of the seasons and the different and unique blessings they bring. Whether sun or snow, brilliant light or brooding darkness, whether ice or flowering beauty, there is enough inspiration for everyone if we are awake to its presence.

And isn’t that the most amazing thing of all? So, get cracking. Pull out those paint brushes and sharpen the pencils. Clear off the table and dig out the 2000 piece puzzle of Monet’s Waterlilies. Buy some yeast and bake a loaf of hearty bread. Write a letter to a dear friend that lives across the country. Sit down at the piano and play show tunes. Sing at the top of your lungs until the neighbors look out their windows.

Snow is on the ground. Let the creativity begin!