about bliss

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

daily bliss: snow days

Last night I listened to the wind howling, the icy snow balls hitting the windows. I checked the weather forecast—in more than one place—and hoped. When the power went out at 11:00 pm, I felt confident that we wouldn't have school today. I basked in the quiet of an electricity free home, lit candles, and climbed into bed with layers of blankets and a book.

I woke at 2:30 am hot and wondering why it was bright in the living room—the power had magically reappeared! I snapped off the lights, peeled off some layers, and drifted back asleep.

When I woke later to the scrape of snow plows, I turned on my blackberry to see what time it was and to discern whether we had school or not. After reading a few promising tweets, I headed to the TV for confirmation.

I jumped up and down, squeeing "snow day! snow day!"

I peered out the windows at a world transformed by white. The driveway was, blessedly, impassable.

My mind sifted through a list of must-dos, want-to-dos, and maybe-dos:

Grade 12 essays.
Bake bread.
Make soup.
Cook veggie stock.
Work on holiday cards.
Practice yoga.
Lift weights.
Stay in pj's all day.
Stay inside all day.

Today was just the day I needed—an unexpected free day to fill with varied activities, without any sense of urgency. A gift.

The beauty of the snow day is the seeming randomness—who can really predict the weather?—and the sense of temporary vacation that transports one out of the weekday, schoolday routine. A day to recharge. A day to do something special. A day to just be.

As I rolled out sweet potato gnocchi and munched on caramelized onion focaccia tonight, I realized I was once again living purely in the moment, a blissful state that I spent most summer occupying. This fall semester, as I attempted to balance work with my fuller personal life, I often found myself rushing from one moment to the next in order to stretch some moments. And while I wouldn't trade any of those moments, I'd like to live more completely in every moment. Without rushing. Without attempting to disrupt the space-time continuum. To lose myself in whatever moment I'm experiencing. This is my winter wish:)

1 comment:

  1. This post almost makes me wish we had more snow so we could have more snow days. What a lovely day for you and good job keeping yourself in the moment. 2009 has had a few moments I haven't wanted to be in; maybe I'll be more philosophical in 2010!