It snowed this week. It was a soft, fluffy fall with little wind. Schools sent out the call early that they were closed, and people rearranged their days to comply. Since it is March, there is a vocal majority that thinks it should not be so, that the window for snow has ended, and we are ready for daffodils. But clouds pay no heed to social media and let flakes fall where they will.

If I could change one thing, probably the collective response would be different. If it were December 24th, many people would be merrily pulling on mittens and making snow angels. Instead of whining we would be warming up hot chocolate. 

I am intrigued by the challenge called Change One Thing. Suppose I was frustrated with my husband's habit of leaving clothes on the floor. I could swivel the universe such that he had been out of the country for ten months, and there were no clothes to step over. Suddenly a wrinkled shirt and pants would be a welcome sight, in or out of the hamper. A woman in California whose husband died of cancer three years after the wedding told me she would give anything to see socks on the carpet. 

Suppose my baby were up crying in the night, and I was finding it hard to be patient. I could snap my fingers and pretend that a masked burglar was hovering outside my window, and because of the noise passed by our home and moved on.

Maybe it is silly. But then again much of my response to the circumstances around me are fabricated anyway. I think the person who cut me off in traffic is inconsiderate. Maybe they are distracted by a scary diagnosis. I assume the mother who is ignoring her toddler throwing sand at my child is inept. Perhaps she just had a miscarriage. 

I like the idea of using an active imagination to improve my attitude. Since I am already quite good at complaining it would serve me to hone new skills.