As somebody who plans to the hour and makes sure I am being productive every moment, you would think that I hate the snow, for all the reasons everyone else in Vancouver seems to hate snow. We can’t get anywhere, we’re late to wherever we need to be, we’re trapped inside. I do feel impatience when (like tonight) I was waiting for the bus for half an hour. I do find myself frustrated from time to time, when my workplace or school doesn’t call for a snow day–especially since I am far from walking distance for either of those places–but whenever I find myself in the snow, I cannot stop smiling.

I was running to the bus this morning, and generally the fastest way to get to my closest stop is to go through a school. The school is private, so in the snow, it’s closed, and they don’t bother clearing the snow. So I was shin-deep in snow in some areas, and I had forgotten to zip up my ankle-high snow boots, so I had snow in my shoes, and I was possibly going to miss my bus, but I found myself laughing, because I’m clearly ridiculous. I couldn’t tell you why–I think the clumsiness of it all just fills me with delight.

N. will tell you that it’s because I was born in a snow-deprived country. This is probably at least part of the reason. (For half my life I had no idea what snow was like! Amazing.)

But I think it is also the fact that, as someone who is always planning to the hour and ensuring every moment has its purpose, I relish the opportunity to slow down.

I appreciate these rare chances when I have no choice but to take my time, to use my own two feet, to clear my own path, and to go slowly. I am always on my way somewhere, and almost always I am in a rush, but when it snows, I am slow for once.

Of course, it’s hard to fully appreciate these forced walks, because they inevitably bring me somewhere warm. Tonight, it brought me to a bed and a heated blanket, within four walls and a roof, and I can’t neglect the fact that while the snow slows me down but never stops me, it brings others to a complete stop: I am privileged to have warmth when I need it. I’m also aware that some folks’ livelihood depends on the ability of their vehicles to have access to navigable roads, and when it snows, they themselves are not only slowed but their incomes are, as well.

But I am grateful for the snow for making me think about this, for making me confront my warmth and making me consider ways to take action.

I am grateful for shared laughter that emerges out of shared inconveniences; I am grateful for anything that enhances and strengthens the human connection.

If that’s what it takes, then–let it snow.