As I write this, it is snowing. I’m sitting in a warm building, staring through large gaping windows as wispy snowflakes drift through the sky like graceful ashes.
Snow has always made me think about life, friends, family, and love. Maybe it’s the warm and cozy nature of winter that contributes to this reflection, watching people laugh over steaming beverages through coffee shop windows, connecting with loved ones, nestling under blankets, and cycling through classic holiday movie marathons. I think the sentimentality of it all is quite eye-opening: the cheerful festivities celebrating life and love remind us of all the things we still wish to achieve in those departments, as well as all the things we already have.
To me, blinking lights entwined around rusty lampposts scream, “You’re brand new, now go find what makes you warm.” I believe winter exists because we’re supposed to find what makes us warm, and that definition of warmth is different for everyone. Maybe it’s embracing a new adventure, staying in tune with yourself, partaking in some retail therapy (not the most economical option, although highly enjoyable), or finding purpose in something you didn’t even know existed. It’s up to you to decide.Â
My life has changed a lot within the past year. After winter break of 2024, I flew back to Michigan on my 19th birthday and jumped right into sorority rush the next day. I walked around campus in search of good food staples with my friends, feeling intense imposter syndrome. I purchased an excessive amount of boba tea. I tore my ACL on Saint Patrick’s Day. I filled my digital camera with candid memories, and made a flower crown out of dandelions when the weather got warmer. I struggled through sessions with an econ tutor. I made connections that I’d forever cherish. I smiled, cried, laughed and learned. I packed up my freshman dorm, squeezed my best friends and headed home. Summer was for physical therapy and a few great adventures. Fall was for hellos and farewells. And now winter is for new beginnings.
The scary thing about life is that you never really know where you’re going. But you know where you’ve been, and that’s enough to propel you forward into the next chapter. Life is like a grocery store; each new experience that falls into your cart determines your next craving. You wander down the aisles in search of the next product to satisfy your desired recipe. Sometimes the thing you’re looking for is out of stock, so you’re forced to find a substitute. Sometimes you get exactly what you want, and everything falls into place. And sometimes it doesn’t. But at the end of the day, you have the power to decide which aisle you walk down. And you never know, something that wasn’t there before might just show up again on the shelves one day.
Winter is deciding where you go with that shopping cart, and how you channel the change that the past year has brought you. Maybe you have some niche new year’s resolutions. Maybe you plan to branch out to those you’ve always admired from afar, learn something new, try new foods, or read more books. Maybe you want to work on yourself for just yourself. Maybe you just want to live.
Snow often falls slowly at first. Next thing you know, it’s thrashing around wildly in the wind, then cautiously sprinkling onto the surface of our coats as if it’s asking for permission. It covers fields of faded grass with a crisp white blanket, then melts into water. In the blink of an eye, it’s frozen to ice once again. It is constantly morphing and changing its formation, deciding how it wants to exist. I think we and snow have a lot in common.
In the wild mess of deciding our next big move, we might feel like we are lacking control. However, we are in fact the ones with all of it. We get to ask ourselves the questions:
- Are we happy with where we are? If not, how do we change that?
- How can we conquer today?
- How will we grow from this?
- What gives us purpose, and how do we chase it?
We’re the ones steering the shopping cart, at the end of the day.
I recently turned 20 years old and had the pleasure of helping recruit our wonderful PC ’25. My friends and I walk around campus with our heavy coats and strengthened sense of belonging, reflecting on silly and heartfelt memories from the past year. I’m learning that the most important connection you can ever have is the one you have with yourself. I’m still a consistent consumer of boba tea, and I’m pretty sure I’ll always be. After a good run, I glance at the faded scar on my left knee and I’m reminded that pain is temporary. I continue to fill my digital camera with candid memories where we all just look a little older. As it snows again and again, I reflect. When the dandelions bloom, I’ll remember. Then in the spring I’ll pack up my cozy little room and do it all again, but a little bit differently this time because the shopping cart is a bit fuller now.
So let yourself remember. Reflect on the time you made yourself proud, took that one leap of faith, or overcame something that seemed almost impossible. Reflect fondly on the days you absolutely conquered, while learning from the ones you didn’t. Recognize that growth is a product of failure. The most beautiful things in life are often things that transform.
Look at the light-entwined lampposts and feel the warmth of knowing that this is your year. Never ever stop changing, because change allows you to shake hands with each new version of yourself that you haven’t met yet.
Winter is simply the beginning.
If that’s what you make it, after all.