What a Snow Day Taught Me About Being Here Now

The Promise of a Snow Day Last week, our city was buzzing with talk of a big snowstorm. The forecasts promised six to twelve inches, and the state even declared a state of emergency. I love a good snow day, the kind where everything slows down and you’re tucked in at home with your family. So, I let myself get excited.

But as the weekend arrived, the storm seemed to fizzle out. The snow came in light flurries, never quite building into the winter wonderland I had imagined. I went to bed on Saturday night still hopeful, picturing the world blanketed in white by morning.

When I woke up, there was only a thin layer of snow on the ground. My heart sank. I felt silly for being so disappointed, but I had built up this image in my mind of what the weekend would look like.

The Reframe As I sat there, moping a little, I caught myself. I realized I was complaining about not getting enough snow. How funny is that? I took a deep breath and looked outside again. The snowfall we did get was still really beautiful. 

That’s when it hit me. What I had really been longing for wasn’t the snow itself. It was what the snow represented. I wanted stillness, rest, and time with my family. I wanted the world to slow down so we could just be together.

The Lesson in Waiting It made me think about how often we do this in life. We wait for something big to happen before we allow ourselves to feel joy. We wait for the dream job, the perfect relationship, the next milestone, or the moment when everything finally feels “ready.”

But life is happening right now. The small, ordinary moments are the ones that make up our days, and they’re often the ones we overlook while waiting for something more.

A Simple Practice for Presence When I notice myself slipping into that pattern of waiting, I try something simple. I get still. I set a five-minute timer, place my hands on my heart, and take a few deep breaths. Then I ask myself, “What am I noticing right now? What is this really about?”

That question always brings me back to the truth. Often, the disappointment or restlessness I feel isn’t about what’s missing, but about what I’m craving underneath it. Connection. Rest.  Joy.

Once I name it, I can find small ways to experience it right where I am. Maybe it’s making a cup of tea and sitting quietly for a few minutes. Maybe it’s calling a friend or playing a game with my kids. The point is to stop waiting and start living.

Gratitude for What Is Later that day, the school announced a snow day after all. I laughed at the timing. It felt like a little wink from the universe. We spent the day sledding ( there was just enough snow for that), watching movies, and just being together. It wasn’t the snowstorm I had imagined, but it was exactly what I needed.

That day reminded me that gratitude changes everything. When we focus on what’s here, rather than what’s missing, life feels fuller. Most of the things we have now are things we once hoped for.

A New Season Ahead As I wrap up this chapter of the Connected and Well podcast, I’m filled with gratitude. This journey has been such a gift, and I’m so excited for what’s next. I’ll be launching a new show soon, one that celebrates dreamers and the beautiful, messy process of bringing ideas to life.

If you’d like to be the first to know when it launches, or if you’d love to keep getting little notes like this one, you can join my email list through the link in the show notes.

Until then, remember this: joy doesn’t live in the future. It’s right here, in the small, quiet moments that make up your life.