Saturday, June 26, 2004

It's the dead of winter and it's Sabbath. You have just eaten a wonderful meal with hot chocolate to top it off. You're full, and you decide to take a nap on the couch. You lay down, cover up with a warm blanket, and fall asleep. Half an hour later, your mom wakes you up, asking you to go to a neighbour's to drop something off. You agree, get up, wrap yourself in layers of warm clothing, and open the door and step outside. The cold wind hits you like a cinderblock wall. You stop as the breath is torn from your body, and the moment before you gasp in a few mouthfuls of air seems like an eternity. The whiteness of the world outside momentarily makes you feel as though you've gone blind. You gather yourself together and take a few steps. The snow is piled in huge, rolling drifts across your sidewalk, and the wind is blowing the loose powder snow everywhere. It stings your cheeks and nose, and makes you blink as crystalline snowflakes are thrown into your eyes. The whistle of the wind continues as you wade slowly through the snow. You soon begin to shiver, and your scarf, wrapped too loosely in your warm and comfortable post-nap haze, keeps slipping off your nose. Your breath moistens the inside of the wooly material of the scarf, but soon freezes in tiny crystals and scratches your skin. You begin to loose feeling in your fingers and toes. Eventually, you make it to the neighbour's house, and ring the bell. A moment later, it opens, and you hand over the item you were sent with. You turn around and embark upon the trek back to your own house, following your own bootprints in the drifts as best you can. Finally, you reach your door. You open it, walk inside, and at once you're enveloped in warmth again. Your fingers and toes begin to ache unbearably as the blood begins to circulate through them again. You are handed a hot cup of tea, and you return to your blanket and couch in front of the fire. Soon you are just as deliciously warm as you were before the whole event.

This is the way that I look at relationships. The short nap and comfort represent the relationship itself--the euphoria and excitement of beginning something new. The arduous journey outside is the misery of the end of the relationship--all of the discomfort and unhappiness that must follow. And the return home represents the at first painful but then comforting return to oneself--the ability to look beyond the unpleasant experience and reprioritize everything, to look at all you had before and realize that it was and is good. You're just glad that you went through the cold so that you could appreciate the warmth that you'd taken for granted before. Maybe, someday, the nap won't have to end.

I am trying to make a potentially important decision right now. Please pray for me, my disloyal public. ;)

4 comments:

ralikat said...

Of course, as I need your prayers as well, dear friend.

Diana said...

You've got 'em!

ralikat said...

Much thanks! =0)

Diana said...

Anytime, friend, anytime. ;)