A Winter wonderland

Journal entry of Mark Robertson

It's hard to believe, but I've gone a couple of months without writing an entry in my journal. I have been so busy lately. Time keeps on slipping away from me and I find that before I know it it's tomorrow, and then the next week. Hardly an excuse for laziness, but I'll try and list some of the highlights. In these past few months, I have had a marked increase in commissions, met Winters parents, saw my first ever Buckball game and done some re-decorating. This Hearth Warming Eve was the best I've had since arriving in Equestria. I got some fine pens and ink from Winter and in return I bought her some fancy lingerie and I wrote her a poem in my finest hand with my best materials.

I had a bit of a sniffle the other week, and Winter played nurse which was nice.
Not in the “doctors and nurses” way either – but the hot soup and cold flannels on the forehead way.
Winter Wrap Up is a week away, and Winter is a bit upset about it all.
I told her, I said to her, ' Winter, don't worry. You did excellent work and besides, won't you be glad of the extra time now that you don't have all these snowfalls to plan?' I asked, scooping her into a one armed hug.
'I guess.' she replied, snuggling into me 'It's just that winter is my time to shine. I hate feeling less useful. It's what I love, but it only lasts three months and then it's gone.' she replied in a resigned tone.

Winter's sadness at the end of another winter got me thinking of what my place in the world was. The turn of the seasons, the end of another year here is as good a time as any for self reflection.

Three years after arriving in Equestria with nothing but the clothes on my back, and no memory of where I was or what I was doing before being found passed out in Canterlot park I think I can safely say I have fully settled in here. My business continues to grow – perhaps I'll have to hire an apprentice and move to bigger premises soon? This spring sees the annual awards for the Calligraphers guild, and I wonder if I'll finally get some recognition for all my hard work? I remember well my first time there. I was elated to have been nominated for best new Calligrapher, and turned up full of hope that I might so soon be accepted into my chosen profession. I was bitterly disappointed when a unicorn of competent ability, but with nothing out of the ordinary won. If I was being uncharitable, I'd call his style plebeian and boring.

What stung worse the reception afterwards. It was all glitz and glamour with a string quartet mingling with the chatter of ponies and the clinking of wine flutes. As I wandered around, wondering what to do, I happened to pass a small group of ponies – one of whom was the head judge of the panel that had just decided who won and who lost.
'He quills well enough, but really, he ought to go back to being an amateur.' He said pompously.
'I hear he uses those “hands” of his to write!' intoned an older mare in a highly mirthful tone
'Quite so. I happen to have a piece of his work, and I can safely say that while he certainly has talent, his work is far below the standard that the public have come to expect. Why, my daughter can do better work than him, and she's a filly!'
It was then that I left, hearing the older mare laughingly say 'Oh you are too cruel by far!' as I hurried to be gone.

During Hearth's Warming, I ruminated on how secular it is. Unlike Christmas, there is no spiritual message behind it, just a simple one of how important working together is, rather than endless fighting. After three years I find myself relying on God less and less. Church was an integral part of my childhood, and though by the time I was a teenager I was half an Atheist (perhaps more than half), I still had a lingering attraction to the prayers and ceremonies, so would go to Mass every so often, usually around Christmas and Easter. Finding myself in a strange new land, the idea of a God who cared about me & could bring me back was a comfort, so I prayed to go home every day. Eventually, as I became more accustomed to life in Equestria I prayed less and less. Eventually it became more of an emotional crutch, a touchstone to my past when everything was so sure and certain. I would pray when I needed reassurance, and not of genuine belief. I still do from time to time.

If I'm being completely honest, I don't really believe in God, the Bible or the Church any more. Mainly because of the reasons I hardly ever went to church in my old life, but also because they would very likely condemn my relationship with Winter. Plenty of people would be only too happy to follow the command in Leviticus 20:15 “If a man lies with an animal, he shall surely be put to death, and you shall kill the animal.” Winter wasn't an animal, but she certainly resembled one, and that would be enough to kill us both to some Christians and to ostracise us from others. Lucky then that world was forever closed to me.
That's what that nightmare was trying to tell me. I had to choose to clinging to an ideology that would condemn me to a lonely existence or embracing the chance to find love and happiness.
There will always be a part of me that holds on to all the positive aspects of Christianity, I have chosen to let go of it's restrictions and narrow views. God isn't going to help me here – even if he is real. Best to accept that, and move on with living my life as best I can. From here on out, I'm going to try and rely less and less on “God” and more on myself and the people around me.

Well, it's getting late, and I have a early start tomorrow. I shall sleep in the hope that a new year brings only joy to Winter and I, putting all the worst behind us. May you too – whoever may be reading this – only find peace and joy in your life.