I’ve decided to be happy about the snow

Rather than thinking of the pain in the arse it is to drive or commute in

What about the way snowflakes used to dissolve on my tongue when I was a child?

I remember the flakes falling out of the sky, sometimes disappearing as if by magic, never landing on the ground

Perhaps I should care less about how the snow, like rain, can turn my silk press hairstyle into waves in an instant

Now that I’m older, perhaps I get to change the scene

Delete narratives that no longer serve me?

Many of us have never removed the costumes we’ve outgrown

Maybe it’s time to change my mind about certain things

Maybe even about people

Just like I’m choosing to do with snow

Magic and wonder are abundant

Yet these beautiful creatures will only reveal themselves to those who believe and therefore can appreciate their gifts

When I’m in New York City at Christmas time, I secretly believe in a presence often called Santa Clause

I’m convinced there is some semblance of truth to the fairytales

This belief can help us to serve others more generously and compassionately

Or even ourselves

Maybe we were the ones who possessed the magic all along

This could be the true spirit and intent after all

Just to think these revelations were received as a download while watching snow fall