Snow

I started to say that for so much of my past year I'd been hanging out with my buddy Anxious, but that wouldn't be an accurate depiction.  In reality, Anxious and I have walked together throughout my life, he's just jumped on my back for a piggyback ride these last few years (yee-haw!).  Many of you have even seen me physically carrying my Anxious Feeling Buddy™ with me - in my backpack as I go to work, in my carry-on bag as I board a flight, riding in the car beside me as I run my errands.  For months I kept him right with me (my friend's 6-year-old was very intrigued by him when I spent the weekend of the hurricane at their house). 

And yet...

I realized this week that I don't know where Anxious is hanging out right now, both in an emotional and practical sense (seriously, I don't know where he is, so if you see him please help him find his way back).  My feelings of anxiousness have abated and been replaced with feelings of calm.  I think I spent so much of the year worrying about this holiday season and how I'd feel about experiencing it without John, but as I ride my way through December I'm finding myself calm and content.  I'm still here.  John's not.  But I had 10 years with that wonderful man.  He was no saint, but he daily modeled composure for me in a way that I'd not experienced before him.  Whereas my love is passionate and robust, his was a constant, steady presence that allowed me to warm in it's glow.  No, 10 years wasn't enough, but I'd not be honoring his memory and the man he was if I simply curled up and stopped functioning just because he's gone.  I always knew this in my head - now I'm starting to know it in my heart.

___________________

It snowed last night in NC. 

Now, I know that this isn't a big deal for most of you (especially since it's just a few inches of snow), but we get so little snow here that it's put us in a state of crisis.  We're just not equipped to deal with snow, plus we end up doing this snow-melt-freeze thing where everything becomes treacherously icy. 

To add another layer of angst to our snowy event I'll share that I'm not at home, but 3 hours away on Lake Norman at a retreat with people from a variety of locations.  We've spent the last 2 days watching the radar, checking weather reports and fretting over different people's flights home.  While I wasn't dealing with canceled flights, I did have a decision to make - should I leave the retreat early to get home ahead of the storm or stay here and risk getting snowed (iced) in. 

Calm.

A year ago I would've been in a tizzy.  This year I feel nothing but calm.  Rushing home would do nothing for me (especially since, like Old Mother Hubbard, my cupboard is bare).  Staying here means I'm with my tribe.  I'll get home when I need to get home and can do so safely.  For now I'll sit here by the lake, listening as 15 other people wake up and start their morning routines one by one, and looking out at the lake and the snow. 

There's nothing as calm and peaceful as snow.