The snow is melting here in New England. In the northeast corner of Connecticut the snow is still to be found in piles of 10 inches or more in pockets scattered around the landscape. When I went out walking yesterday I found this mandala that had been buried under snow, on an old wooden table that has held many a nature altar over the years. Most often it holds flowers and seed pods. On this sunny day it held this. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't arranged just right. What about that dark spot on the table, what about the tiny pine needle sitting there? That wasn't the point though now was it? A mandala allows us to see into our life. Life isn't perfect and there is always a dark spot in there somewhere and that needle that might be poking away at us underneath it all. As I pulled back my hand to rearrange the circle...I realized that it was showing a picture of my own beautiful life. I just need to leave things alone long enough to look at them.