To Do

I cannot brain right now. There’s a buzz in my head like a fluorescent bulb in an empty office. A quiet, persistent humming that at first I didn’t notice, but once noticed I cannot stop noticing, as if its sound is magnified by my attention.

I have things to do, decisions to make, and the buzzing confounds me. It interrupts my thoughts and scatters them, like scraps of paper I have started to sort and organize, tossed by zephyrs.

I want to go out into the snow, fresh and bright and heaping. I want to make angels with my kids and teach them the joys of snowballs and the squeaks and crunches they make as we pack them together with mittened hands.

I am afraid of the nagging and finger wagging I will receive from myself, hands on hips, knocking knuckles on the doorframe to remind me of the undone things and promises unkept.

Maybe my focus is buried in the snow, and my children will find it for me, cocooned in scarves and savoring the warmth of the sun amid the chill of icy flakes. I’ve promised them, too, while they slept curled against me, tiny hands seeking my warmth, while they tugged at my sleeve or my side, clambering into my lap to take my whole attention by right and force, while they waited for me to do ‘one more thing.’ I never seem to put ‘have fun’ on my agenda.

Out in the brilliant snow there is no need for lights or lists. There is quiet, just the sounds of breaths freezing in the air, little tongues catching flakes, boots shuffling, sleds sliding. There is calm, each tiny crystal a miniature wonder, blown into drifts, predictable order born of chance and chaos.

If the room won’t stop buzzing, then I will just leave the room. If the work won’t happen, I will just not work. If the snow is beautiful, I will just enjoy it. I’ll bundle up and brave the cold, and like the flurries dance and drift, I’ll let my worries go. We’ll track a trail around the yard, and all they have to do is smile for everything to be fine.