Ruminating on Snowfall

This winter was different.  Cleveland has been hit with hellacious snow the past few winters.  The cold and precipitation lasted into April!  This was bad news for my emotions and stress

I believed I may have had seasonal affective disorder.  I was both more angry and more melancholy---with more frequency.  I would stay inside almost all winter, anticipating there would be nothing out to do in some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.  It was rough and made me really want to move

This winter has been completely different.  I've undergone a personal sea change within it, making a ton of lifestyle changes and starting to practice a meditation and breathing regimen.  It's also thankfully been quite milder and that has made things much more tolerable.  Overall, though, I would say a new mentality of happiness has reigned over whatever weather may have come

Today I was making a drive from Downtown Cleveland to Fairport in Lake County.  It's roughly a 35 minute ride and a route uncharted for me.  I was making the drive in a large, white Ford, 2-seat E-Van, so I was both able to see more what was in front of me (sitting so high) and even less (I was so high it was hard to see at my feet)

About midway through, a light snow came.  As more snow came down, I began to reflect on it.  I studied that snow as it smacked right into the giant windshield

The trap I fell into the last few years is far too commonplace:  this snow is unpleasant, and therefore I must get away from it.  Therefore, it must make my misery

But what if we took a few moments to nourish nuance and make the mundane magical?   I reflect ever more intently.  I could see the snowfall as an asteroid field, me and the car as a spaceship.  In the beautiful chaos of this space,  we still made it to our destination.  We navigated space and our purpose was manifest

Simple flips on perspective like this are critical to our sanity and happiness.  They are when we can appreciate that we are in service to a higher purpose and also when we begin to appreciate our own work.  They are what make difficult days and moments those of the greatest possibility.  They are what turn what looks like a deleterious snowfall slowly into oceans and pools of hope