Howling with Joy in the Storm

Do you remember the time when, with sparkling eyes, you would sit on the windowsill to watch the snowstorm raging outside?

You were fascinated by the force of the wind and the speed at which snow could accumulate. You crossed your fingers hoping enough flakes would fall to close your school so that tomorrow, you'd be free to play outside.

You imagined yourself sliding down from your house's roof, then making it all the way to Mexico with your momentum.

You didn't really know where Mexico was exactly, but you knew it was far, really far from home and that it inspired all sorts of adventures in you.

You'd go up to your room and go to bed in a state of excitement as intense as Christmas Eve. Well bundled under your blanket, you'd take one last look at your bedroom window convinced that if you prayed hard enough to little Jesus, he would forgive you for not going to church every Sunday and that tomorrow, there would be snow up to the roof.

The storm made you dream.

And the next day you'd get up before sunrise to see how much snow had fallen. Opening the front door, you were a bit disappointed to find that your prayer hadn't been completely answered, because it hadn't fallen up to the roof. Maybe little Jesus was too busy with those who had nothing to eat in Ethiopia?

But hearing your father swear because he was going to have to spend the morning shoveling, something inside you said it might be enough. After all, there must have been plenty of kids like you who had prayed to little Jesus for schools to be closed. And if little Jesus was so good, he couldn't disappoint so many children.

Seeing you daydreaming, your mother would rush you to get ready for school, because back then it was pretty rare for schools to close because of a storm. But you always kept hope of having your day off. But just to be safe, you'd join your palms together as a reminder of your prayer.

You'd pour yourself a big bowl of Corn Pops because there was nothing faster to eat, but also because you knew your mother wouldn't let you go play outside on an empty stomach.

Your mother would turn on the radio and you'd sit in your underwear on the living room carpet to watch for the moment when the radio host would announce your school's name. And after an endless wait, the magic words were spoken, and you couldn't help but howl with joy. Suddenly, you were glad you had kept your underwear on, because it would be faster to put on your snow suit that you were going to slip on with the efficiency of a firefighter called to a fire.

And once outside, after making your way to the street, you started thinking about your friends. And that's when you realized they were already outside as if you had arranged to meet. Just by the gleam shining in their eyes, you knew this unexpected day off would be filled with adventures.

And when you think back on your life today, you tell yourself that times change, even though these memories are so intense they could have happened yesterday.

Yet now, when snow falls persistently, you think of all the problems it causes you and you start cursing life thinking of all the disruptions it implies: "Who's going to watch the kids? Will I be able to get the car out? There's a good two hours of shoveling waiting for me before leaving for work, it's cold, the roads are poorly plowed, there's going to be hellish traffic..."

You start dreaming of Mexico...but this time to flee a reality not to create one.

But maybe today will be different.

If you remember that child who dreamed and used snow's malleability to give shape to his dreams, you'll keep hope.

If you listen to his voice begging you to call your boss to take a day off, you'll feel reborn.

And then you'll get dressed and go outside to shovel. You'll see your neighbors shovel in hand with big smiles on their faces and a sparkle in their eyes and you'll understand that they too have answered the call of that child who was howling with joy in the storm.

Looking up at the sky, you'll realize the snow is still falling, but this time, it won't bother you. A surge of happiness will spread through you and you'll become aware of all the possibilities the storm offers you.

As if each falling flake were a new adventure opportunity that nature offers you as a gift to reinvent yourself.

And that's when you'll realize that even though you're an adult and have responsibilities, you can still go outside and howl with joy in the storm.

Because the only responsibility that really falls to you is to do the things that truly make you happy.