I stayed up for a while to watch the snowfall last night. I love it like this. The house is quiet. I can hear the noise of the hot water as it moves through the radiators.
The snow-covered ground illuminates the dull gray sky. And it’s nighttime. Everyone is sleeping. The roads are mainly empty and the world is mostly quiet.
I love it this way because there are absolutely no intrusions. There is nothing but me, the quiet, and my own true self. I don’t have to think or say or do anything. All I have to do is look through the window to watch the snowfall.
The weatherman said this was going to be a big one. I heard there were mixed opinions but either way, I heard we were supposed to get a big accumulation of snow.
I think life goes this way. I think we give in too much to anticipation. I think we give in too much to someone else’s opinion. We forget to realize that speculation is not always a friend. Take now, for example. Here were are, expecting the worst but it turns out, the worst just isn’t so bad.
Life is this way too. Am I right?
Sometimes we expect a huge storm to come. We think the world is going to fall apart so we run to prepare.
We become frantic. We panic. We expect the worst and prepare for devastation.
Meanwhile, nothing is so devastating.
Meanwhile, after all, it’s just a little snow.
I use this as a metaphor but I get it. Not everyone digs the snow.
I get it.
The commute can be a bitch. the roads are slick and driving sucks. We have to shovel ourselves out.
I get that problems occur. Sometimes we lose power. And sometimes the storms can be devastating. I get that too.
But sometimes, we work up these storms in our head. Sometimes, we create tragedies before tragedy happens.
Sometimes, in our expectation of the worst to come, we miss out on little beautiful details, like last night’s snowfall and how pretty it was to watch the snowflakes come down.
Whether the news about the storm is right or wrong, the situation is totally and completely out of my control. Whether the snowfall accumulates to an inch, several inches, or if it piles up to well over a foot; still, the circumstances are beyond my control.
All I can do is keep warm, enjoy my coffee, look through the window, and wait to see what falls.
All too often, I see us giving into anticipation. We assess the damages of storms that have yet to pass. And sometimes, we assume the worst. We expect the worst. But sometimes in our comfortable moments, we forget to pay attention. And that’s where the problem lays. This is where the memories of downfall come into play because in a time of our comfort, we were interrupted by an outside discomfort. And this is what the mind holds on to
It’s not that we should be afraid of life or what will happen. It’s that either way, good or bad, life will happen. Simply put, we do not and cannot control external events,
Just like the weather, the world is an unpredictable place. We cannot hinge our life upon predictions or assumptions. We cannot fix or change things that are beyond our control. We cannot re-litigate the past. We cannot relive our yesterdays to change them and better suit our needs. More importantly, we cannot control the uncontrollable and whenever we try, we are certainly doomed for disappointment.
Consider this; throughout life, how many moments have you missed because your attention was taken away because your anticipation had brought you elsewhere. Meanwhile, there is an entire life going on.
But you . . . somehow you missed it because of your worry and anxiety.
Of all thefts, the worst theft to be victim of is the theft of life. And often times, we look around. We wonder how times passes so quickly. We think of all the things we wished we could have done (or should have done) but for some reason, we followed the wrong plans and built our life according to the wrong blueprint.
For some reason, our attention was elsewhere. We spent too much time on speculation and assumption. We worried too much and in our anticipation for the storm to come, we missed out on the perfect little details of everyday life.
And it’s not that bad. The snow I mean.
I get it though. It suspends life for a while. It affects traffic. I get that storms can postpone and cancel events.
Like this morning, for example. I was worried that I might not make my Sunday morning classes. I started to feel anxious last night. But then I decided to lie back on the couch. I left the porch light on so i can see the light glistening through the falling snowflakes.
Rather than be hinged to passion and instead of allowing anticipation to determine my mood, I surrendered to the quiet moment of just me, myself, and I.
Last night, I gave in and watched the snowfall because it’s not that bad.
Life, I mean.
This is just another day. There will be others. Whether the snowfall accumulates or freezes over; whether the power goes out or whether the snowfall creates damage or not; whether my classes go well or cancel, or whether this note finds its way to you or it doesn’t; the truth is most of life is beyond my control.
I cannot rely, create, or control external events. All I can do is allow myself to break away from my irrational passions.
All I can do is separate from me and my emotional obstacles. I can negotiate my perception and alter my interpretation.
Instead of depending upon (or relying upon) an instance; and rather than hinge my life upon my insecurity and expectation, and instead of allowing external settings to dictate my future, I reserve the right to create my own strategy and determine the pathways of my best possible direction.
I recall spending a period of time, beating myself up about a mistake I made. I felt like the entire world was against me. And maybe some of it was. But so what? How does this matter?
Someone told me, “It’s all in your head.”
I must have heard this line at least a thousand times before.
But somehow, I never really heard it until that day.
Perception is what dictates the difference between obstacles and opportunity. It all depends upon your point of view.
The truth us it’s all up to you.
It always has been . . .
Enjoy the storm, my friends.