pressing onwards

I've spent an atypical amount of time today trying to figure out what's worth sharing.

Is it the meals with family of over the last several days? The ongoing reality of a strike? The fact that the snow has once again returned to the Prairies?

All of these are noteworthy, sure - reminders of the world slowly but surely pressing on.

The changing of the seasons signifies the start of the year's final chapter - one a little different than anticipated, admittedly. I was supposed to start student teaching tomorrow; that's not happening. I have a book available on Amazon; that still feels odd to sat. I was used to being busy; the strike has ground things to a halt. It's almost like being caught in the eye of a hurricane: all around us, things are whipping by - pandemic, strike, a millions things out of my control. Within, though, there exists a weird sense of calm.

In a lot of ways, my internal state matches the general feeling you get looking out of the window these days: weirdly calm. Quiet. Clean.

The snow has a weird way of slowing us down.