When it Snows

They were calling it the first snowstorm of 2009. The New York city forecasters spoke with some menace about how severe the weather would get on Saturday night. Numbers added up, expectations rose with them and people looked outside anticipating the worst.





But soon enough we got much less than promised. Life proceeded without catastrophe or calamity nipping at out heels. The night instead offered up something quite different though perhaps not unexpected. For one night the city-world outside was transformed. Nature swept over the material realm and covered everything with its own fleeting beauty.








Of course there were people about but their sounds and activity were dim and muffled under cool delicate layers of white. I had to be out on this night but I was on foot and the rapturous splendor of it all reminded me of my first visit to New York.











It was in February of 1974 and I have a powerful memory of walking on the roads one evening, and the snow was falling, and it was magical. I had just discovered an inner direction for my life. I also felt as though not only was the destination of my journey clear but I also that I had someone in my life who would eternally guide me on this path of my heart.









I live here now of course and have seen many cold snowy days. But whenever it snows at night, about this time of winter, it never fails to take my thoughts back to the time of my first walk on a snowy night here. All the enthusiasm and freshness of that trans formative journey rushes into me and I feel as well renewed hope for the walks and journeys that still lie ahead.








Eventually I will go inside where the visions that sparkled so briefly before my eyes will vanish. But perhaps my heart will be a little richer with the wonder of the journey I have made on this snowy night. And perhaps, I can march forward on my life's path with a little more confidence, for whatever the number of days and nights that are still in front of me to travel.

If I can become

A snow-white seeker,

Then God is bound to meet me

Before long.

Excerpt from Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, Part 25 by Sri Chinmoy.