Living the entirety of my life at high elevations, it never ceases to amaze me how nature cuts cords with dead weight that can no longer support the whole. Snow is rare in May in Utah. Today up the canyon for a quick lunch break, I observed the wreckage. Limbs strewn, unable to hold the weight of the snow as branches sprouted spring foliage. I grieved the dead wood flung aside. So much loss in one freakishly late storm. Sitting, my mind wandered to the winters we weather in our lives. Often thinking we are coming into rebirth, only to be slammed again by harsh storms that strip us down. Winter unwilling to relinquish its grip, takes no hostages. And yet, in this hibernation it demands we resources ourselves. To store energy. Requiring us to preserve our strength. In the cold dark shadows, its solstice on the precipice of spring, she comes to reinforce the prioritization of survival so that we are rooted enough to thrive. Sitting in my most recent ceremony of trauma integrati...