When the ice was too thin to walk on, my grandpa would lie down flat and slide his body onto the lake so he could go fishing.
When the weather got colder and the ice thicker, he could walk upright. When it got warmer, he could take a boat.
It was the change of seasons that brought the most uncertainty. The times of transition that brought him to the ground.
And in those times, survival meant lying down. Staying alive meant moving forward gently.
And you. In the changing season. In the uncertain time.
Put your ear to the ice. Listen to the fragile places. Let them feel your trembling bones. Let them feel your heartbeat. Lie down if it will keep you from falling through.