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Snowflakes

 


Snowflakes

As I run, one of the things I think of often—is how what I view and feel about what I am witnessing as I run and in my life is fleeting. The witnessing is frail. The witnessing is only mine to acknowledge to live and die with and like no other—with barely a relevance like a snowflake.

One flake falling has its own identity as it floats from sky to earth. If it lands just right it becomes part of a hampered or joyous experience to others. However, that snowflake may also become something else—either before or after it hits the ground. It may become part of a frozen tundra, a sloppy slush or merely a drop of water. Either way, it becomes part of who we are; how we respond; where we go; what we love; what we fear.

Whether we like it or not that one snowflake is part of what impacts every living thing’s life—on so many unimaginable levels. As I watch the snowflakes drop when I run; I am reminded too of the irrelevance of my life. The non-entity, that many would like to not know exists.

Even a non-entity is regarded, sometimes as a threat. To all other’s lies. Lies they will accept over the existence of my living. Unlike a snowflake, I temporarily take up a little more space in the world. I remind some of what they haven’t attempted to do. I remind them that its never too late. And that honesty is the best policy. They do hate that. My mother told me that about fifty years ago.

As irrelevant as I am to anyone perhaps. Too, what I witness is just that. My one witnessing is mine and mine alone. No one truly cares what this vessel has witnessed or witnesses without some reciprocity. Some agenda to help them get through a second, a minute, a day, a life. And when my witnessing is gone. There has been nothing before it neither anything after it, that can be replicated.---Jody-Lynn Reicher

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