First Snow
When was the last time you did something
for the first time? When was the last time you were awed by something
unfamiliar and new?
I was 17 years old when I told myself never
to allow my future self to fall into mediocrity or apathy. I had no idea what
lay ahead, and it was so easy to make promises that sounded easy enough to
accomplish, given the circumstances I have always known. I used to have what
jaded people call the mythical drive to be someone who does something important
with her life.
What I didn’t know is that there will be
events in my life that will terrify me, will break me and unglue me. I didn’t know
it will take me preternatural effort to pull myself together and use all my
energy to impede self-implosion. I didn’t know how safe Mediocrity could become
to someone forced to evacuate her comfort zone.
I wish I had been one of those people whose
reaction to grief was to push forward, climb mountains and tame lions. My
nature and nurture instinct was to pull the covers over my head instead. I
retreated from Life, because it has become a scarier, surreal place where
everything that made sense was turned upside down. I lived like this for years.
I have wasted the latter part of my 20s tiptoeing around, trying not to rock
the boat.
But there’s nothing like the freezing cold
to wake up the senses. The last time I did something for the first time was to
taste snow. The last thing that awed me was a mini-snowman with thumb tacks for eyes, peanut for a nose and stick for a mouth.
By some benevolent act of Fate and Faith, I
found myself fulfilling a dream I’ve had since I was 4 years old. To touch,
feel, be in the snow. I could’ve held snow in Korea or China or Japan. But none
of them would resonate with me by aligning the two things I have always wanted
to do. Snow in London is a league of its own, at least to me. It’s the best of
my best daydreams. It was unbelievable to the point of miraculous. You know how
some virgins say it matters who and how your first is? If you wanted Ryan
Gosling to be the first, and you want it to be awesome, but life could only
afford you either Ryan Gosling or awesome and never both, wouldn’t you feel the
tiniest bit of regret? Well, imagine how it felt for me to have both Gosling
and awesomeness.
Standing in the middle of a surprise snowstorm
in the heart of London was the wake up call I needed. Finally, I realized it’s
time to shake off the bed covers, comb my hair, brush my teeth and venture into
the new breakfast season of my life. And breakfast is always awesome.
I have been broken, terrified and unglued.
But I have survived by allowing and recognizing the small miracles in my life.
In terms of a life well-lived, I may have lost some time, but I never lost the
path.
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