Mia Lasic-Ellis

Among the long list of my mostly unachievable 2026 New Year’s resolutions was to be present. I wrote this in hopes that I would not only stop worrying so much about the future but also be more appreciative of my life as it happens.

At the first dinner with my friends back from break, we played “rose, bud, thorn,” a life reflection game many Bowdoin students are familiar with. In doing this, we acknowledge the negative aspects of our lives while staying positive about what has happened and looking forward to what’s to come. Below is my “rose, bud, thorn” of this week. (Note: I have reordered the game to end on a more positive note.)

Rose (Appreciation)

Though I am often negative about the snow, I’m trying to be open-minded about my Arctic experience.

On Sunday night, in the midst of the so-called weather emergency, I braved the snow with my housemate, Kyler Choi ’28, to take out the trash. Wind breaking through our fleeces, we ran through mid-calf-high snow, connected by our hold on the oddly heavy recycling bag. Instead of the cold, all I could focus on was the sparkling world around me, shiny and crunchy like sugar. I understand why snow globes have glitter now.

The next morning, I was shocked to find the mountainous pile of snow in Moulton circle. As someone from a place where we have only two hills (both manmade) of 30 feet, tall piles of snow are curious to me. I was so excited that Elinor Hershkowitz ’28 took a commemorative picture of me in front of it, pointing my finger to reach the peak like a Parisian tourist in front of the Eiffel Tower. After the additional precipitation on Monday, I eagerly anticipated the size increase. I was disappointed to find:

Thorn (Rumination)

They took away the giant pile of snow.

It was explained to me that big snow banks melt into glacier-like chunks of ice, which is dangerous (I guess?). Admittedly, I still slip while walking when it’s slushy outside, so the less ice the better. But it would have been nice to see how large the mound could grow.

Bud (Prospection)

Sun. Basic, I know.

Sun means I can explore Brunswick. I’ll walk and call someone, probably my mom, and talk to her through my wired earbuds. When I pass by someone, I’ll pretend like I’m thinking about what to say next, afraid to talk aloud to seemingly no one in front of a stranger. I always judge other people talking out loud into their earbuds on the phone. I should probably add “stop being a hypocrite” to my list of resolutions.

Sun means my birthday is coming up. March 12. It’s not very sunny in Brunswick then, but it’s the best weather of the year at home. The cherry blossom in front of my house always blooms around that time, shedding petals onto the front yard. My sister and I will celebrate at the nearby Mexican restaurant that’s slowly losing its charm to corporate white walls and fancy new bathrooms. But we’ll have fajitas, so that won’t matter.

Sun means I can lay out on the quad. When I came to school, I didn’t realize how little opportunity I would have to be outside. It’s completely my bad; I should have expected all the snow. Still, the minimal warm weather makes me appreciate it more when we do have it. My friends play music, and we kick a ball around, and I ignore my readings until after dinner.

Sun means going home for summer break. Tanning with my sister (her getting some color, me not). Grocery shopping with my mom. Late-night chats with my dad. Seeing my brother when he occasionally exits his room. I’m trying not to look too forward to this—being more present and all—but it’s still ever-present in my mind despite my “rose, bud, thorn”-ing.

Sadie O’Neill is a member of the Class of 2028.