A Dove in the Snow

By | November 13, 2013
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adoveI think that this time of year, when darkness comes early and the nights are cold, is a thoughtful time; it is a time of reflection. The dead, brown, leaves on the ground, the stark, bare, brittle branches reaching up in their futile attempt to reach the summer sun, a sun now hidden behind gray, icy, sullen clouds, and the ceaseless cold late autumn wind, creates a forlorn cacophony, a sad discordant symphony, background music to the changing of the seasons and the dying of the light.

And, at this time of year, I find myself more pensive, more introspective, and maybe more thoughtful too– although not in the sense that one would normally use that word. When I say “thoughtful” I mean thoughtful in the sense that I think about things more, read more, ponder more, explore the inner-self more.

Recently it occurred to me that the things that mean the most in life are the things we take for granted, and the things that are the hardest to see. Things like the changes in your friends, your children, your spouse, yourself — none of us stay the same. We age, and though we fight mightily against it, age takes its toll on us all. You can mask it with makeup, face lifts, and trendy clothing: you can run away from it as fast as you want, but it will catch you sooner or later. I should say — you can run but you cannot hide.

If you have been lucky enough to have children, have you ever notice that when they grow up, in your mind you see them as they were and not as they were? You see them as children even though they’re grown up. We don’t really want to see how things are, because that would remind us of our vulnerabilities and mortality. The older our children or our friends or our spouses get, the older we get.

So we see only what we want to see and disregard the rest. It’s just too painful to see things any other way; we don’t want to see things they way they really are — our children can never be toddlers again, we can never be young again, our friends drift away or change until they are not friends anymore, and we’re all going to die someday. And who wants to dwell on that?

But getting old is part of life. We all get old and we all die and we have to – we have to clear the way for the new. I’m not so sure I’d want to live forever even if I could. As long as I can think clearly and get around fairly well and learning something new each day, of course I’d love to live a long time. But at some point the body starts breaking down and then the brain. I don’t think I’d want to have wonderfully functioning brain locked in a body that I can’t control.

The best thing about getting older is getting wiser– most of us, anyway. I think I feared death more when I was a child or young man, more than I do now. I thought a lot about death when I was young, I think because I lost my mother when I was young. And then I became extremely close to my grandfather, and he passed away when I was a young man. And since then, death has visited my life often. I actually worried about dying a lot before I turned 30, but now the older I get, the less I fear it. Maybe in my youth everything was new and exciting, and now there are very experiences which are, and not much excites me.

As hard to see as a dove in the snow…

By now, you’re thinking I’m a boring, crusty, melancholy, old curmudgeon, don’t you? Maybe you’re right, maybe I am. And that’s fine with me. Most people don’t understand this, but it is true nonetheless – it makes no difference at all what other people think about you; it only matters what you think about you. Like many things, this concept is as hard to see as a dove in the snow.

Look around and you’ll see many things pretending to be love — but love is very hard to see. One of the most misused words in the world is “love”. The words “I love you” roll off the tongues of so true of so many but it’s not you who they love – it’s themselves they love. Love is one of the hardest things to see because there are so many things masquerading as love — but they are all impostors A dear friend of mine sent me a wonderful essay the other day, and I’d like to share a tiny part of that essay with you:

“…marriage (and true love) is never about you. It’s about the person you love—their wants, their needs, their hopes, and their dreams. Selfishness demands, “What’s in it for me?”, while Love asks, ‘What can I give?’…” (Read the entire essay at http://sethadamsmith.com/2013/11/02/marriage-isnt-for-you/ )

So while the word “love” is nearly ubiquitous, real love is as rare and as hard to see as a dove in the snow.

The wind blows: it too is like that dove in the snow — you can’t see it unless you look very hard for it. And if you do look hard, you’ll see it, you’ll see it in every blade of grass, in the gentle sway of the branches overhead, the drifting of the clouds in the sky… he wind makes the whole world seem alive and vibrant; the wind can also kill and destroy. But you can see the wind, the wind gentle, the wind evil, the wind that blows as softly as a baby’s breath. The wind is powerful, but you really can’t see it unless you look.

And so it is with all of the most important things in life… they are all as hard to see as a dove in the snow. You can’t just glance at life – if you do, you’ll only see what the world wants you to see — the glitter, and the false and the glow — but you’ll never see the really important things, the true, real things, the things that really matter, the things that make a difference unless you look very hard for them.

And sometimes what you see only exists in your thoughts — but if they are true then they are as real as if they were standing right in front of you. You see your children as they were when they were young — they will always live from moment to moment in your mind. But to see them, you have to stop, and look at them, really look at those thoughts to see your kids building snowmen, opening Christmas presents, playing ball, dancing in your thoughts to really know that they really live in your heart and in your mind, and because they do, they’ll always be young no matter how old they get.

The same is true of our friendships and those we care for and love. Time will take its toll. We may grow old but if we keep our thoughts young and look beneath the surface, everything is as new, and young, and as fresh as it ever was. But, I know, it’s not easy to do when you hurt and ache or you’re ill. A dove in the snow isn’t easy to see, in fact most people never really see the dove at all. They’re lost in forest and still they can’t see the trees.

Don’t be one of them. Look for the things that are the hardest to see. We all can see that dove in the snow if we look hard enough -if we look beyond what we can easily see, and uncover the beautiful, the true, and the lasting that lies hidden beneath the surface. Beauty, truth, love, true friendship, our greatest memories – those things never age. They are always with us, but many times they are all as hard to see as a dove in the snow.

The sky is dreary this cold November day. The torch of summer has been passed to autumn’s cold hand; its flame has nearly been extinguished. It flickers meekly in the cold and biting wind. But beneath those somber, ashen clouds, and in spite of the sharp and wintry wind, I see a dove in the snow, and that has made this day worth living.

4 thoughts on “A Dove in the Snow

  1. Pat Loe

    This article was absolutely wonderful..It grabbed my heart and wouldn’t let go and I will now look for the dove in the snow. Thank you..

    Reply
  2. Melanie Wood

    That was a beautiful piece TC. I’ve lived most of my life without my birth family – both parents gone before I was 20 and my brother: he only made it to 52. I still miss them, but I know they all stayed as long as they could. I never knew my grandparents, and now that I’m immersed in genealogy I can understand why :o(

    Poor everyone! But I understand and it’s okay. Life is what you make it and I prefer to continue to find that dove, & that teensy little flower peeking up at me from my path; appreciate the rainbow and delight in the rain even though I HATE TO BE COLD! I don’t want to miss out on a moment, and having sat with relatives through their last breaths a truth took me by sursprise: their awareness of the one door closing as the next door opens. I for one do not believe “death” as we know it should be feared. Meanwhile: party on!

    Reply
  3. Barbara

    Really nice article, and I liked the part about the marriage being not about ourselves but about the partner we are married to. It is not always about “us”. We love them for what we can do and share with them.

    Reply

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