Seattle Snow Storm?!

Seattle, you did it. You snowed just about as much in one day as you normally do in a year. And for that I am grateful. I did however have to brave this winter storm to get to work and I have lived to tell about it. Here are just a few pictures I took on my way to and from work.

                                                                        braving the snow

                                                              43rd St. as it is almost never seen

                                                                so lovely and yet so cold

                                               and home again, thanks metro buses for still running

                                          very picturesque, minus the grey slushy road in the forefront

Tales of 3-5-8

These are words inspired as I rode my bus (358) home from work.  I have had the desire to write a poem about my bus experiences for awhile now and I finally have.

Tales of 3-5-8

Greetings from a driver
Though sometimes I feel invisible
Pungent smells assault me
Old and young together
Immigrants, natives, and transplants like me
On and off all day
Eye contact often averted
Personal space no longer my own
Subjected to conversations I'd rather not hear
People fighting, people laughing
Some on their way to a party
Others just riding to survive
Teenagers with no money, loud and unaware
Old women in wheelchairs
Young mothers, exhaustion in their eyes
Hopelessness, heartache, and sorrows
Smiles, joy, and adventure
All ride together
No restrictions, no expectations
Just people going about their lives
Getting from here to there
Who are you?
Where are you going?
We all ride together, yet we all ride alone

Magical Watch

So, being a consistent blogger maybe isn't my forte. Not yet at least. As it is, blogging is an intentional choice to reflect openly on the life I am living and what I see in that life. Oftentimes, reflecting is exhausting and at the end of the day, it is the last thing I want to do. And yet, here I am at 10:30 pm after a long day at work, choosing to stop for a moment and write.

On the bus home, a little boy got on with his grandmother. He was about four years old and was wearing a hat with Mario on it. He was your classic talkative child. Just a little bit before they got off the bus, he turns to his grandmother and tells her about this great idea he has had about a watch that would "disappear them home" by the touch of a button. Right around bedtime, he could press this button and it would "disappear them home" and then they wouldn't have to ride the bus. Brilliant.

I love the dreams and ideas of children. Kids are unstoppable because they have not lived long enough to have been told that they can't do something or that something is impossible. I think this is the quality I love most in children. And I wish adults allowed ourselves to live this way: as if nothing could stop us, as if anything is possible. I can only imagine what our world could be if our childhood dreams had never been shot down. If we had never seen hurt and failure. If we had never learned the words "I can't".

I want to live my life like the boy on the bus who wants to invent this magical watch. I mean, what could it hurt? Children are the most carefree, joyful beings I have encountered. They truly believe anything is possible. We could all stand to be a little (or a lot) more like them.