That One Morning...

My eyelids parted slowly, allowing what little light there was in the room to flood into my mind. One by one, I felt the sections of my body wake from their slumber, begrudgingly moving at the whim of my mind until I sat upright on the bed. The air was cold, with each breath chilling my nose and disturbing the air around me. My palms found my head and pressed firmly against the eyes within, wiping away the last of the grogginess from my mind. My eyes darted around the room, taking stock of where I had left things the night before, as I mentally began preparing for the day ahead.

Something about this morning was different, though; I was awake far earlier than normal, and there was seemingly more light coming into the room than usual. I stood up, working closely with the bed to find my balance and began walking toward the window. My foot met with some undetermined object on the floor, and I decided I would find out what it was later, after I made it to the window to investigate the anomaly outside. I raised my hand to the blinds and parted them, exposing the answer to the morning’s oddity.

Snow.

It was perfection; a sheet of undisturbed white that blanketed every object within my line of sight. There were no animal tracks or footprints, and the scene was devoid of odd objects protruding from the natural coating. A city snowplow hadn’t even been up the street. The sun peeked above the tree line, and tiny specks of bright light reflected off the snow, piercing my eyes like the glint from a diamond under the jewler's lamp. I watched in awe as nothing about the scene changed, all was still and quiet and the wind was nowhere to be found. I was in a photograph, and I stood there for what felt like an hour, lost in the moment and the scene of perfection.

Motion caught my eye and my focus shifted to a garage door opening. A misty exhaust rose diligently into the cold morning air, as if it were its duty to defile the scene before me. Two bright, unnatural white lights flickered on, and a midsize sedan rolled out of the garage and into the street before stopping and changing its direction. The man inside this contraption commanded it to roll forward, and it obeyed, leaving in its wake the mark of society’s imperfection on the morning’s gift of serenity.

I sighed.

Nothing ever remains perfect, does it.

Then, I felt my lips curl into a smile as a realization entered my mind. It would, one day, snow again; after all, it was the season.

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I spoke with an old friend tonight whom I found out is an ENFP; and finally, for once, I get it. My horoscope today said something to the effect of 'I should keep my mouth shut' only it did it a little more eloquently. In fact, that's the word it used. "Sometimes silence is the most eloquent response of all."

Its amazing, sometimes, where you find your sources of wisdom, and how they can get you back to your center. The passage above is a complete re-write from something long ago, and for some reason, it somehow fits what I feel today. To my friend, my sincerest thanks to you for your ear. I will take your words to heart.