Snow Globe Still Life
Wake up. Shuffle through the daily dose of hate and violence with a cup of coffee. Follow directions. Stay within the lines. Bear your paperwork like a shield and create as many unnecessary tasks to feel important, to distract yourself from the disconnection.
One day, the snowman looked at the faded plastic flakes settling around him. A warped world was all his resin eyes could see. Colors beyond the globe. He dreamed of winter, real snow. He dreamed of time passing, beyond the stasis he was in. He couldn’t move. He could dream. In his dreams he could see the world he wished existed.
The snowman had never been to school. The snowman had never watched the news. He never had a mother or father. He had a plastic bird on his hat and plastic flakes. The bird sometimes spoke with him. It had smaller eyes, one slightly imperfect, so it saw less than the snowman. The two liked to dream together of what the world should be, could be for them. They remembered their production. The snowman had a glimpse of a line of identical snowmen behind him as the globe came down over his head. In that brief moment, he understood he was not alone.
The snowman had nothing but time. He liked to imagine all the things that could be. He had never learned excuses or routines, habits or beliefs. In his mind, he could see a world where everyone was unafraid. Where snowmen wandered, where they gathered and took care of each other. Where there was no judgment or hate. No make believe, unless it was for fun.
One day as the snowman dreamed he met a man. The man had a serious face and a business suit on. The man was agitated. He had to go to work. Insurance. Paperwork. He had so many papers to shuffle. The man tried to explain to the snowman why the papers and the monies were important. The snowman shook his head. Ridiculous. The snowman could see the globe around the man, dirty crumbled money and bills settling at his feet. The man couldn’t see the prison he made himself. He argued it was necessary, that it kept him safe and gave him importance. The snowman thought of the many identical snowmen he’d seen. He knew the man was just one of thousands, each thinking they were different and important. That the tasks they chose to do and live for were the ones that mattered, while the world went on ignored.
The snowman dreamed of a real field, real snow. A snowball fight with the other snowmen. The cold, wet touch of real snow. The warmth of the real sun. The melting touch of a live bird.
What was important? What was real? Why did the man choose to disconnect and put himself in a globe full of plastic priorities? Why didn’t he focus on the people around him, on what would make the world a better place for them? Why did he hide behind excuses instead of caring for himself and kin? The snowman couldn’t imagine putting anything ahead of his cock-eyed companion. The snowman could not fathom why anyone would want to wake up looking for a reason to be angry or to fantasize hurting or punishing anyone with a different dream; even the sad man in his shoddy globe.
The snowman sat on the shelf, heart as bright as the sun. Simple and right. Living without a thousand distractions, without arguments or expectations.
The snowman and his bird created a world in their dreams, a world where everyone woke up without rushing. The focus of the day was only what was needed to thrive, everyone doing what they could to help make sure needs were met. When the tasks of the day were done, everyone spent time with the people they love. There was connection. When a grumble happened, when a mood went dark; no one was left alone or shunned. Everything was discussed, everyone was cared for and respected- even when they didn’t see things the same way.
The snowman and his bird, they wondered, what did people dream? Why did they choose to spend so much time and energy dividing themselves? Why didn’t they spend more time living, why did they turn their lives into snow globes?
The plastic flakes swirled, they never spoke but the snowman understood. Fear. A fake thing people made up in their heads. The plastic flakes settled happily. They liked dancing in the water. They were simple in their wants.
The world went on.
