One of my New Year's resolutions should have been to stop getting my divine direction in life from those little scraps of paper in my fortune cookies. Or maybe I should just give up Chinese food so that I would never be exposed to another fortune cookie. But since I didn't and I can't, I was faced with this lovely bit of wisdom: Many a false step is made by standing still. On the back was the Chinese word for Post Office if ever I'm in Beijing and need to mail a letter or postcard back home. This is ironic because of my method of dealing with life-changing decisions - I tend to stand at the crossroad until the developers come along and rearrange the scenery. I shall have to ponder this bon mot over a cuppa and maybe it will all make sense.
On the ride into work this morning I let myself be lost in the foggy mist and enjoyed the last of the snow from this past weekend. It will no doubt be gone soon, soaked into the ground as if it never existed. Snow for me has always held a deeper meaning. I am happiest when it snows, yet I couldn't begin to explain why. So I looked out the window, imagining romantic characters striding across the pure white expanses, and just breathed in the beauty. Snow wraps around the seemingly dead landscape, and whispers promises of rebirth and renewal as it gently cradles the world in its soft, white blanket.
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