Everything's either covered in black ice or white salt residue. Today I watched a postal worker wipe out, roll, and get right back up. Like some kind of superhero.
It looked like it hurt, but they were so casual about it. It's as if that's something they do all the time.
You know... I bet they do.
The sun finally came out (sort of), and even though it's still brutally cold, driving through the neighborhood was pleasant. It's the kind of day where you can see your breath; frigid, frozen-eyelash-territory. Before that postal worker wiped out, I'd been watching steam coiling off of houses like smoke—even the ones without chimneys.
There'd been a tree in a little square patch of sidewalk blocking part of my view as the person turned to walk up the steps. By the time I figured out what was happening, I saw both arms start flailing behind the tree. Then a head, neck, and torso came into view at standing height, but parallel with the ground. The rest happened in slow motion.
Out of nowhere, I pictured the diving board from the summer camp I went to. A kid named Ryan misjudged the bounce of the high-dive and ended up doing the worst (best?) belly flop I've ever seen. Still, to this day.
After a long fall through the air, I watched the postal worker land square on their back. Flat on the concrete. Covered in ice.
Oh... yikes.
I slowed down and opened my window. It crunched at first, fighting the cold.
"Are you ok?" I'd asked. They were already moving toward the next house, having popped up and delivered the mail like nothing unusual had happened.
They looked up at me with a sort of "pshhht... really? Are you kidding?" type of expression. But it quickly turned into a playful smile. Then they said "happens all the time, man. That wasn't even the biggest one from today."
I returned the smile.
"Just gotta roll with it" they'd said, breath spiraling up and away like a dragon.
As I drove away, I realized I want to be more like them in 2026.
Happy New Year!
What's something you want to embody this year?
onward.
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