Silence and thoughts in a snow storm

On a night like tonight, the steady silence of the snow only occasionally gives way to the sound of slush under the tires. I pass by the intermittent buzzing of power lines, hear a siren in the distance, and feel a gust of wind against my face as I turn corners.

The concept of experiencing something fully comes to mind and for a moment it feels like my entire brain is taking part in seeing the snow on the black backdrop. Quietly, my mind starts to tip-toe around on its tiny feet, weaving and creating.

Roshni told me that she can’t imagine not believing in god. Isn’t god a concept created by those wandering little feet of our minds? As a concept, it is useful when things do not make sense, but it makes more sense to me to try to understand what doesn’t make sense rather than to cover it with a blanket. Sometimes we need a blanket. Roshni also told a story about how her friend’s sister calls her friend at very timely moments in her life after she has dreams about her. Is coincidence and fate the same thing by a different name?

Slush, wet boots, gusts of wind against my cheeks, power lines, darkness and quiet. I walk towards a police car, no two, blocking a small dead end street off of High St. At the end of it, a tree has fallen over power lines and onto a car, probably breaking the roof. Neighbors stand around. Only one house does not have power; the one with the broken car.

I feel myself breathing faster. I notice the sound of my sleeves swish-swashing back and forth against my body. Where did that silence go? If feels like it never existed even though I know it is there. I realize I have been holding my breath. I am scared that I won’t be able to write this down when I get home. I take out my phone and record myself, pausing often. When I listen, I hear myself sniffling in the cold.

It amazes me how physical stress can feel, how it can change what we sense in the world around us. What was stress before we had a word for it?

I felt happy leaving work, like everything was right-- I had finished what I had to do, I discovered twitter, weekend plans were falling into place. But the happiness seemed superficial, it lacked the act of experiencing. I saw the snow, I heard the silence and the cars and my footsteps. Maybe creativity comes in the absence of worry.