I grew up in a much warmer place. I don’t usually romanticize it. If you've lived in a warm climate, you’re aware that there’s such a thing as being too hot. My Hoosier friends don't understand that and they get misty-eyed and wistful when they speak of their collective Shangri–la: Florida. Don’t misunderstand. I love the beach, but, let’s keep some perspective: the mosquito is Florida's unofficial state bird.
I admit to missing warmer climes today, though. I spent two hours shoveling snow, and it’s still coming down. I’ve been in a real funk lately, and much to my surprise, I had a few small epiphanies out in the cold.
As I shoveled my giant mess of a driveway, I realized the driveway was perfectly fine – I just couldn’t see it for all the snow. That made me think that maybe my life’s not the giant mess it seems right now. Perhaps there’s a perfectly good life down there hiding beneath some other crap. (Do they sell fear shovels at Home Depot?)
Some people will tell you it’s useless to shovel while it’s still snowing. People will tell you a lot of stupid shit. If you don’t shovel early and often, you get a deep snow blanket with an evil layer of ice beneath. Removing that takes much more effort than freshly fallen snow.
Not all snow is bad. Snow-covered trees and fields are lovely. Only the stuff that accumulates on roads, driveways, and sidewalks is dangerous. We have to watch out for a bunch of crap in the areas that incapacitate us.
Shoveling snow is pretty simple: one shovel at a time. The key is not to ignore it until it becomes overwhelming. Part of my personal “driveway snow” has been other people’s opinions. No – wait – their opinions aren’t the problem. The problem is the weight I've given their opinions, and my decision to lug them with me everywhere.
You can’t fill your shovel until first you’ve emptied it.
Sometimes, nice people with snow blowers will help you. (Tony, you’re the freaking MAN.) That personal “driveway snow” removal is a solo project, but nice supportive folks can help you find the strength and inspiration to do it.
If you’ve neglected the snow, it’s a lot of work, but it’s not impossible. When you’ve neglected your dreams for a while, of course there’s a lot of initial work to do. But, one shovel at a time, you can get back to them.
If you'll excuse me, I have more work to do.
3 comments:
When the snow gets too deep, with no end in sight, maybe it's would be easier to just learn to ski and make the best of the "fallen blessing". Just like everything else in life, a little "Driveway Snow" never hurt anybody. That having been said, it can get TOO deep rapidly. Regardless of how hard we try, the faster we shovel, the faster it falls, until it seems fruitless to try. It is then we should look to the blessing of the snow.
Snow is great for skiing. It is fun to make "Snow Cream", (don't use the yellow snow for this one). Without a little snow, snowball fights would be impossible and Frosty could never exist in every childs heart and soul. The generally good, but somewhat sad thing about snow is that most of the time it will go away. Then we can see the driveway for what it really is, just a runway for dreams to land upon. While it seems that the snow comes when we are least prepared to deal with it, stays longer than we'd like and creates chaos and confusion while in existance; it still provides us with a chance to experience peace, tranquility and yes joy if only for a moment.
I said all of that to say all of this:
Don't be in such a hurry to shovel the snow out of the way until you've had a chance to bask in it's beauty. Is your shovel half empty or half full?
Whew! Metaphors everywhere...so many parallels that some have converged!
BTW - I remember snow cream, but don't have the recipe. Care to share that? I have some strawberries and lots of non-yellow snow outside...
That being said, Bubba, I appreciate your response, and notice you're the only one in three days willing to respond to my nutty snow shovel spirituality post. Hopefully, I'll move to the Pacific Northwest soon
and we'll be neighbors.
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