The old familiar quicksand feeling is setting in and the feeling of being ‘stuck’ is returning. Any activity that requires me to be mindfully mind-less is cold and uncomfortable.
In this snowfall my body shivers and I long to huddle in penguin-like comfort.
Calamity after calamity. On Pause. Again. My knees are numb. Kneeling.
I meander along alone feeling perpetually naked, unable to step away from inside my mind’s flurry, without cover, blinded by this ceaseless torrent. The rain is mine but not the snow.
I am covered. In sadness.
What am I grateful for?
- Snowflakes of time melted by the nomadic sun.
“If snow melts down to water, does it still remember being snow?” ~ Jennifer McMahon