Now that I’m at a point in my life where I’m thinking more and paying attention, one of the most peculiar things to which now I am unaccostomed is the way that people complain.

Although I wasn’t quite as aware then, one of the first times I noticed this nature of the people around me was when I lived in Chicago. There I only found it interesting that my colleagues at work, who grew up in that area, would express such dismay at wintertime; now that we live in Alaska, I truly cannot comprehend that anyone would be suprised at the depth of snow on the ground.

What you're supposed to do when you don't like a thing is change it. If you can't change it, change the way you think about it.

Yet, it happens. Not that I talk to anyone about it (because I rarely speak to anyone but close friends), but usually voices are raised when the neighbors are shoveling the unexpected 20 inches of snow from their driveway, or as we overhear strangers lamenting the cold while walking through the grocery store.

So few of us lack the means to relocate — but even fewer of us will keep our mouths shut at the first sign of a minor inconvienence… the irony is perplexing, but at least those voices remind me to be mindful about my own thoughts.