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