I was born during the winter, in beautiful Armenia where I spent the first 14 years of my life. I was, and still am, a winter person and winter played an important role during my childhood. I’d wake up in the morning, rush to the window and look outside to see if it had snowed. To my great disappointment, the bone cracking frigidity of the freezing weather wouldn’t have yielded to the lightness and warmth of the snow. Eventually it would have to, because the tenderness of the snowflakes would gracefully soften and melt any built up harshness in the weather and in our seemingly rigid minds.
Landscapes were supernaturally transformed from horizon to infinity by the whiteness of the warm blanket that was known as snow. I’d find myself outside running freely like an uncaged wolf cub. I was reborn. The season of creativity, mystery, and imagination had begun and I’d immerse myself in it completely and utterly with childish innocence that did not embody any fear or doubt.
I remember the transformative power that winter had on me and on the planet earth. It had a grounding effect. It was the force that inclined towards darkness and cold yet was calm and mysterious like the celestial and miraculously unique snowflakes. Winter was as intense as the wintertime ghost stories and our frostbitten fingers and noses. It was also powerfully transformative, just like the snow that would magically transform those distant landscapes.
After a long winter, we’d feel refreshed, rejuvenated, open, and welcoming to the uncanny virtuosity of the birdsong of the glorious Spring.
If there is even a speck of curiosity left in us, with an added stain of imagination, let us all welcome winter together!
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