It takes a few years in the snow to fully appreciate what those crystallized depths have to offer an over-bundled soul. Of course there are a few instantaneous qualifiers -- if you’ve burnt up a half-a-dozen snow blowers in a single season, spent half a morning brushing, chipping and hacking into your car only to find the battery was dead, or slid half way through a red light during your driving test. Otherwise, you need the drain of a few harsh seasons to capture the wonder of a white winter.

Unraveling

Unravel, unravel, unravel. I am unraveling yet again. Everything feels off, nothing feels right, yet I can't point my finger to what it is. It makes me afraid. Afraid of letting go of a last tight grip on what I believed to be true, to be the way, to be the me. I am scared because I don't know what's beyond the unraveling. Mostly it feels like I'm outgrowing my clothes, literally and figuratively, and the storefront I keep (my business) no longer fits as neatly and sweetly. Clearly something has shifted inside, and therefore, something gotta shift on the outside. But what?

The Matrix

It was about three years ago and I was exhausted. I had recently come back from a trip to Australia. My intention was to spend time with a good friend and rejuvenate. The spending time with a good friend part was great. The rejuvenation part didn’t last long.