NYC was hit by a snow storm today, and though it wasn’t anything major, it did last all day. I am not a cold weather person. I never have been. Even as a child, I would stay indoors when the snow came. I detested the feeling of the cold wind and the feel of the snow in my hands and the chill through my body. I was a California girl whose family had moved to a colder state in childhood against her will.
Later, I moved to NYC in hopes of attaining a dream, and in some ways, myself. But the cold weather never agreed with me. Yet, on days like today, I realize how beautiful the snow can be. Even in NYC.
Today, I had a list of things I wanted to do so that Sunday could be my day. But with the snow starting to fall in the early afternoon, I decided to sit in my plush red chair and just stare out the window. I live in NYC, I’m always part of this crazy scene. But for once, I decided to be an observer of this crazy city and watched the bundled up people walk by in their winter clothing.
Children played, men helped their female companions across the street, and the elderly hunched with age carefully stepped into the street as the cars slowly went by. Even though I wasn’t “there,” I really was, and in a way I haven’t been in a long time. It was beautiful.
So I read in my big, red plushy chair with coffee and a book in hand, gentle music playing in the background–my two cats playing at my feet. And I realized that always “doing” doesn’t mean living. In this moment, I was living to its fullest even if others may view it as idle. And, I didn’t care, I was too lost in my peace.
Then chocolate cookies and chai lattes were made, and I took a deep breath and really lived. Today was the New Year for me.