I remember my clock radio as a kid, which I used as an alarm in the morning, and to go to sleep with, on timer with about an hour of music from WIZM 93.3 FM. In the snowy mornings, I would turn it on and listen to the school closing reports. They would list off which schools were closed, and if yours was on the list…yes! The day could then be spent sledding, cross country skiing, sipping cocoa and generally annoying your parents.
Now that I live in California, snow days are nonexistent. Though there is snow to be found, in the hills. Up there, we go to sled and ski and generally frolic. And with our smug California attitudes, we note that on the same day we could surf and ski. We could run in our shirt sleeves and later bundle up for winter sports. We are obnoxious in our weather choices. We have it all.
Just the other day, I ran in snow. This was in Portland, while there to drop my kiddo back at college. The snow, unexpected. Because this was Portland, Oregon, not Portland, Maine. We ran with our good friend and enjoyed the muffled quiet of our foot steps. Daughter stated she prefers snow to heat. I am happy at 72 and sunny. But even I will admit our Portland snow run was magical.
What strikes me most about the snow run is the joy. How often do we encounter joy in life?
Life is hard. Our president is trying to talk some sense into our nation about gun violence. If airline or food safety or "terrorism" statistics were like this, there would be mass rebellion, demanding our safety.
Life is hard. I witnessed two care crashes today, one where the person was out cold, then aroused and as I tried to get them to sit still while awaiting the ambulance, they tried restarting their demolished car, with the air bag in their bloody face and smoke coming out of the crumpled hood. It might have been head injury befuddlement, or it might have been the drug paraphernalia strewn in their lap and the front seat. It took 5 cops to subdue them. I hope they are OK. The idiot. The next car crash was an hour later, when I was driving to the hospital and someone ran a red light and plowed into the car in front of me. Not a great day to be on the road. Life is hard. my team and I show up every day to try to lend a healing presence to the people we care for. Yet we meet so many barriers, as the system and the societal expectations are somewhat askew. I am somewhat mollified by Dumbledore, whom quoted at me while I was driving and listening to a Harry Potter book for the millionth time. Not the part where he marveled at finding the room with all the chamber pots when his bladder was very full, though how cool is that? But rather where he notes that looking for universal popularity is folly, and he himself receives at least 2 owls a week telling him what he could be doing better or demanding he resign immediately.
Joy comes as we invite it in. The double rainbow today greeted us in the morning and again in the afternoon. It arced its way over the very spot the likely methamphetamine-induced car crash appeared. Joy comes as we invite it in. Like the person I cared for today who refuses to be categorized as a patient, and delights in every little nice moment, no exaggeration. Joy comes in as we invite it, in the marvels of a well done 3 pointer, or in the case of SOME people, hundreds of well done 3 pointers.
We can close the door on joy, but that seems rather stupid to me.
Life is hard. Joy is abundant. It is like a Shakespeare tragicomedy. Life's a stage or something to that affect.
Joy comes as we invite it in. Little chocolate donuts, for instance.
And, snow days.