It’s snowing and colder than they predicted for today, though it’s only supposed to be “snow showers.” We’ll see.
We had four years that seemed to fly by, perhaps because they were, for me, laden with personal tragedy. Both endless and finite is how it felt, but now each day feels like a slow-motion shot, everything made more dramatic for it.
I definitely need more coffee.
I’m not sure I’m getting up to make it, though.
But I also realized if I don’t there’s a good chance this post isn’t getting written either. So.
It’s brewing.
Today is one of those days where I feel the urge to watch the world go by, as though behind glass. To let it unfold to itself and to let the snow come down without me to disturb it.
To let the air be as cold as it needs to be–still below the the “low” for the day–and to linger in this sense of unreality.
Maybe I can do that for a day.
Just breathe through it.
The thoughts I have while watching the coffee spin round and round in the cup, done, but still too hot to drink.
Sometimes the world feels so big and we feel so small, whether because of nature or because of the people who hoard power like they hoard wealth. Tiny little dots on the face of this vast planet.
I think about that too, about how we judge the scale of things by our own size, I think about the scale of things when the dinosaurs were around. We are our own yardstick.
Largely because we invented the yardstick.
Time, as well, snaps to our framework.
Banana for scale.
But it’s weird how time can feel so subjective. I’ve been at this post for hours; I’ve been at this post for minutes; I’ve been at this post long enough to think about coffee; I’ve been at this post long enough to make it and start to sip.
This is not the first Wednesday where I wonder where the wisdom is. Hopefully you’ve found it, shining like gold veining within the rock.
Or pyrite.
Take your pick, and have a wonderful Wednesday.
A Bit to Read 
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