The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. –Albert Einstein
Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung believed you are born whole and then lose pieces of yourself in the crucible of childhood. Often what you lose with time is a sense of wonder at the small and large mysteries of life on Earth.
I live in a part of the world where the Sun is king and although it often rains in December, it is rarely cold enough for snow. But I grew up in New York. As a child, I often sat by my kitchen window on my birthday, hoping to see the first snowflake of the season. The thought that the season’s first snow could come on my birthday filled me with happiness. Even as an adult, I’m happy just to remember how much I loved snow on my birthday years ago.
Last week, my 11-year-old daughter filled her bathtub with sweet-smelling bubbles, gathered some in her hands and tossed them above my head to make it snow on my birthday. She laughed and danced around me and we both ended up moist all over with soapy water.
Snow is still beautiful and mysterious to me and my daughter’s gesture combined my past memories of snow with a beautiful new memory.
Today– in memory of my childhood wonder of snow and the new memories we make daily, it’s snowing on my blog!