my first snow
09/05/2010 § Leave a comment
Today, I woke up with a purpose, perhaps woke up a little too early, but nonetheless, with a purpose: to get over it and be the b I have always been.
Recently, I have not been having dreams, or only remember snippets of them. I remember drowning in a sea of apple juice, I remember climbing a tree with some friends, but they were merely snapshots of something more complex, but it didn’t matter, even in my dreams I was inside a cloud.
Coming back so much has happened — maybe not happened, rather finalized — that it was difficult to wrap my reality around it. I remember having coffee and conversation with C who said, when the topic came up, b, you strike me as a strong lady.
It was funny, because I didn’t feel strong on the inside, I felt like jelly, like I had been pulvarized by a meat-tenderizer, I felt weak, almost pathetic. I had wanted to cry for far too long.
Then, I realized that strength is drawn from moments of “weakness”. The lower you go, the higher you come back up. For so long, my entire sojourn, I pent up all of my tears and fears inside the cloud, let it expand, let it consume me. I put up barriers between me and other people, good people, intriguing people.
Coming back to Canada, heat hot in my chest, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I needed to let it all out.
This April was the driest April in 100 years. Water was locked inside the sky, the heat from the sun stirring the lakes and oceans, pulling the moisture from the surface into its clutch, not wanting to let it go.
Last night, the cold-front had moved in to temper the accumulated vapour in the clouds. To put a stop to the water being sucked away from where it needed to be, here, on the ground, falling where it belongs, the way the cycle is supposed to be.
This morning I opened the curtains, a little too early in the morning, but with a freshness, an ease of tension, something had broken.
It had snowed.