Snow, Silence and Serenity — Winter as a Coach

Today, it’s snowing, and I love to see the forest in winter.

Snow covers the land; everything gets soft and quiet. The kind of quiet you don’t just hear, but also feel. The forest slows everything down — and so do my thoughts.

I walked outside and noticed how careful my steps became. Breathing deepened without effort. There was nothing to hurry toward. Winter didn’t ask me to do anything. It simply invited me to be still.

In this silence, things became clearer. Some thoughts disappeared. Others stayed, calm and honest. No pushing. No fixing. Just noticing.

Later, I spent time with our Siberian huskies. Their energy was alive and focused. They moved with purpose, then stopped completely. No doubt, no overthinking. Just now. Being with them reminded me how natural it is to switch between action and rest — when you listen.

And then the donkeys.

Standing quietly, looking at me with those steady, wise eyes. They didn’t move much. They didn’t need to. Somehow, they saw straight through the noise. Without words, they seemed to ask: are you really here?

Animals don’t explain. They don’t coach with techniques. They simply show you what presence looks like.

Walking back through the snow, I realized again why winter is such a good coach. Clarity doesn’t come from doing more. It comes from slowing down enough to listen.

Later, I went on a dogsledding trip through the forest.

The huskies invited me along, glancing back now and then to check if I was happy. My laughter, my happy sounds — they seemed to love it too, their tails wagging even higher as we glided through the white landscape.

All around us, the world was quiet. Only the sound of paws on snow and the sled moving gently over the frozen ground. I felt completely present. It was so simple, so pure, that tears of happiness appeared without warning.

Being pulled through the forest by these powerful, joyful animals reminded me again how natural intelligence works: it notices what is real, responds with energy and clarity, and moves with purpose — but always in rhythm with the world around it.

Snow. Silence. Serenity.

And the joyful pull of life, reminding me to celebrate the moment.