Winter Musings

Snowfall always makes me dream...

The first snow of the year, pure and beautiful outside my window. I feel blessed to be warm and cozy inside, to have food in my fridge, a fuzzy blanket around my legs. I feel blessed to have these moments alone to think and wonder.

I feel stirred and strange, as if I am growing out of my own skin, as if soon I will need to shed it and become someone new.

Winter affects me this way every year, for certain. I feel restless, and weary of my everyday. I am exhausted from living without the magic. I fear the mediocre, methodical rhythm of my days... years passing, unremarkable. Of living only half-heartedly, until desire is dead.

And yet it is never really dead, is it? Only buried alive. And now it stirs again, as something broken yet alive, or struggling for life. Do I have the heart to push it down again, heaping dirt on infant dreams that never had a chance to be? Do I call it unreasonable, unlikely, snuff it out before it sparks a ruinous blaze?

Dare I even desire?

Can it be so simple as chasing your desire? I have always wanted to travel, and write, and drink deeply all the experience along the way. I have always wanted to live a great story. I have waited, and feared it may have passed me by. But what if it hasn't? What if I still get to go? What if there is hope yet, after all?

My thoughts are chaos, while the night is still. Snow drifting gently down, settling on some inch of Earth to make it beautiful.

Is it really so simple as that?

I want to go, too...